Tourney Terror
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! Can Frank and Joe stop the terror when a district gymnastics competion turns deadly?
1. Default Chapter

"Guess what?" seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy asked in excitement as he came rushing through the door into the kitchen where his petite mother, Laura, was standing near the refrigerator.  
  
"What?" asked brown headed Frank, from the kitchen table. He had beat Joe home from school by about thirty minutes and was eating his second slice of apple pie. His mother had just gotten up to refill his glass with milk.  
  
"Remember when Nick, Emily and I were called into the office?" Joe asked sitting down at the table as his mother brought another glass of milk over to the table and set it down in front of him.   
  
"Yeah," Frank said, grinning at his brother's enthusiasm. His brown eyes twinkled merrily as they took in the excitement in his year younger sibling's blue eyes.  
  
"Well, we've been chosen to represent Bayport High in the first annual gymnastic tournament," Joe told them, taking the saucer of pie his mother handed him. "Thanks," he said, smiling up at the blond headed woman whose features he had inherited.  
  
"That's fantastic!" Laura congratulated Joe, sitting down. "How many schools are competing?"  
  
"Six," Joe replied. "Bayport High, Southport High, Cornwell, Mercury, Tomlin and East Bridge," he informed them. "Each school is allowed 3 entrants. The tournament is going to start a week from Saturday in Tomlin."  
  
"Why Tomlin?" Frank asked. "Looks like Cornwell would be the ideal place. They have the biggest gym and it's centrally located."  
  
"But it was the brainchild of Principal Reynolds at Tomlin High," Joe explained. "I'll be practicing tomorrow after school and every day after school next week, as well as this weekend," he continued. "Next Friday, we'll be going to Tomlin with Coach Anderson. Family and supporters can come on Saturday."  
  
"Why are you going Friday?" Frank asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Coach Anderson wants us resting in our hotel rooms by 9 p.m. The tournament begins at 7 a.m. sharp," Joe said.  
  
"Is there a prize?" Frank questioned.  
  
"The school gets a trophy and the top gymnast gets a Series Workout Center imported from Italy," he informed them.  
  
"You're going to need it if you keep devouring pie like that," Frank teased as Joe polished off his pie in 5 bites. Joe stood up and took his dishes to the sink and rinsed them. He went over, kissed his mom, grabbed his backpack and left the kitchen, whistling happily as he headed upstairs.  
  
Frank grinned after his brother, gave a small shake of his head, then stood and took his dishes to the sink. He then kissed his mom, picked up his backpack and followed Joe. "Homework?" he asked in surprise as he passed Joe's room. Joe was sitting on his bed, pulling out his history book. He'd been in a rush to get started and hadn't closed his bedroom door.  
  
"Yeah," Joe admitted with a grimace. "I have a paper due on Wednesday, and with practice every night and this weekend, I thought I'd better get it done while I had the time."  
  
"Okay," Frank said slowly. "Where's my brother and what have you done with him?" Joe picked up his pillow and tossed it at Frank, who caught it. "Seriously," Frank offered Joe. "If you want some help?"  
  
"I got it," Joe said. "But thanks anyway."  
  
"All right then," Frank said with a small sigh. "I'm going to dump my books and head down to the pizzeria. Want me to bring you back anything?"  
  
"No thanks," Joe said, shaking his head as he picked up his notebook. "Can I use your computer?" he asked.  
  
"Go for it," Frank told him, leaving Joe's doorway and going into his own room. He set his backpack down beside his desk then left.  
  
"Over here!" Frank heard a familiar voice shouting as he entered the pizzeria. Frank turned and saw his blond headed, brown-eyed, seventeen-year-old girlfriend, Callie Shaw, sitting at a table waving him over. He smiled and made his way past several crowded tables until he reached the seat beside Callie and sat down.  
  
"Where's Joe?" a seventeen-year-old chubby blond headed Chet Morton asked, looking questioningly at Frank with brown eyes.  
  
"Doing homework," Frank replied causing Chet's eyes to go wide.  
  
"Joe?" demanded Vanessa Bender, a blond-headed, gray-eyed beauty who sat at Chet's right.   
  
Frank grinned at Joe's seventeen-year-old girlfriend. "I know," he said. "Amazing," he added, his eyes twinkling.  
  
"Why?" eighteen-year-old Phil Cohen asked. "Joe never does his homework until the last minute and school has barely been out an hour."  
  
Frank laughed out loud then explained to his friends about the upcoming gymnastic tournament.  
  
"That's great!" Vanessa declared, her eyes shining. "Joe's really good."  
  
"So is Emily," Chet added dreamily.  
  
Frank raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Chet's got a crush on her," Phil explained.  
  
"I was going to ask her out for this weekend, but I guess she'll be too busy," Chet said glumly.  
  
"We could hang around and watch her, Joe and Nick practice," Phil suggested, causing Chet to brighten up immediately.  
  
When Frank returned home later that evening, he found Joe had almost finished his history paper. Frank pulled his physics book from his backpack and lay down on the bed to read. Twenty minutes later, he heard the phone ringing. Less than a minute later there was a rap on his door and Mrs. Hardy poked her head inside.  
  
"Frank, the phone's for you," she told him.  
  
Frank put his book down and went into the hallway. He picked up the receiver and watched his mom go downstairs. A couple seconds later, he heard the click when she hung up. "Hello," Frank said into the receiver.  
  
"Frank, this is Todd Dylan," a man's voice came through.  
  
"What can I do for you?" Frank asked, wondering why Bayport High's principal would be calling him.  
  
"I was wondering if you could come over to my house this evening?" Principal Dylan asked. "But don't tell your brother," he added hastily.  
  
"Why not?" Frank demanded.  
  
"I'll explain when you get here," he promised.  
  
"Okay," Frank finally agreed. "I'll be there in about 20 minutes."  
  
Not wanting to tell Joe he couldn't tell him what was going on and refusing to lie, Frank never went back into the bedroom. Instead, he went downstairs and told his mom about the call and asked her not to let Joe know where he had gone. Then he went to the garage, started up his motorcycle and took off for Principal Dylan's house.  
  
He was still wondering why Dylan hadn't wanted Joe to know when he became aware of a truck gaining on him. Frank glanced back and saw a dark green Ford coming up fast.  
  
Frank pulled over to the right as far as he could so the truck could pass. The driver must have stepped on the gas because the truck picked up speed. As it got closer to Frank, the right front of the truck hit Frank's rear wheel. Frank lost control as the truck sped on around the curve ahead and out of sight. 


	2. Chapter 2

Frank saw the curb looming near and jumped off his bike. He rolled as he impacted with the ground, listening to the crunch of metal as his bike hit the curb, flipped over and crashed into the guardrail.  
  
Bruised, but still in one piece, he carefully got up. The truck was long gone and he hadn't even managed to get a tag number. He checked his motorcycle. It was dented a bit but still looked operable. He checked the motor. It turned over and started at once. Frank climbed on and rode to the next gas station. There, he used a pay phone to call the police. He was patched through to Sergeant Con Riley, a brown-haired, hazel-eyed cop in his mid- twenties that was the closest thing Frank and Joe had to a friend on the Bayport city police force. Frank told Con about the hit and run and promised to come down and file a report later that evening. After hanging up he got back on his bike and continued on his way to Principal Dylan's house.  
  
Todd Dylan, a tall, lean man with straight red hair parted on the left was in his mid-forties. He was popular with all the students at Bayport High as well as with their parents. He opened his door as Frank pulled to a stop outside. "Thank you for coming," he said to Frank, smiling as the youth got off his cycle and removed his helmet. "Do come in," he added stepping aside so Frank could proceed him into the house.  
  
"Are you okay?" Frank asked once he was seated in the living room across from Dylan. "You seemed agitated when you called."  
  
"It's the gymnastic tournament," Dylan told Frank. "It was only announced this past week and already things have started going awry."  
  
"Is that why Joe is one of the contestants?" Frank demanded, worried about his brother being used. "So he can keep an eye on things form the inside?"  
  
"Absolutely not!" Dylan thundered, outraged at the suggestion. "I consider Joe to be the best gymnast Bayport High has," he continued. "Emily and Nick are good, but Joe is a natural. That's why I didn't want you to let Joe know. I want him to concentrate on the tournament, not the problems associated with it."  
  
"What problems?" Frank asked, relieved he had been wrong about the principal's motives.  
  
"One of the contestants at East Bridge was in an accident last night. Her brakes gave out," Dylan told Frank. "The police said they had been tampered with."  
  
"Was she hurt?" Frank inquired.  
  
"She has a broken leg from where she hit a tree," Dylan replied, his face grim.  
  
"Okay," Frank said slowly. "Won't East Bridge just pick another contestant?"  
  
"They can't," Dylan told him. "Once the contestants have been chosen only they will be allowed to compete. If one of our students was injured or had to cancel, then we would only have two entrants."  
  
"You said problems," Frank suddenly remembered. "Where there any other accidents?"  
  
"Cornwell lost two contestants this morning," Dylan stated, his face wrinkling with worry. "They were friends and were riding to school together. A witness said a dark green truck ran them off the road. Both boys are in comas."  
  
"Why would someone want to eliminate the competition?" Frank asked thoughtfully. The description of the truck had not been lost on Frank but right now he was more concerned with motive. "A workout station and a trophy isn't worth trying to kill someone."  
  
"There is a bit more to it than that," Dylan said, surprising Frank. "We all decided it would be better not to let the competitors know because we wanted to keep this a friendly competition, but the winner will receive not only the work-out station but also a round trip ticket to the Olympics and one hundred thousand dollars."  
  
"A hundred thousand dollars?" Frank asked in disbelief. "Why? It's just a regional competition, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, but Steve Vaughn, the superintendent of schools, managed to work a deal with George Braun, the owner and CEO of Braun Enterprises. All the schools in the district will purchase supplies and computers from Braun Enterprises in exchange for the prize and publicity. The tournament is going to be broadcast live," Dylan informed him.  
  
"Why so much publicity?" Frank demanded.  
  
"Dr. Vaughn wants the gymnastics tournament to become as popular and national as the cheerleading tournaments are," Dylan explained.  
  
"And what exactly is it you want me to do?" Frank asked.  
  
"Keep an eye on our contestants," Dylan answered. "Maybe see if you can find out who has been hurting these kids. I know you and Joe are good at solving mysteries," he added.  
  
"That's right," Frank interrupted him. "Joe and I are," he clarified, stressing Joe's name.  
  
"You mean you can't do this without him?" Dylan asked, his brow wrinkling in worry.  
  
"I could," Frank replied, causing the principal to brighten momentarily. "But I won't," he added. "Joe's and my relationship is built on trust," Frank explained. "If I were to investigate this without his knowledge and he found out it would shake that foundation. Besides," he continued, "Joe is directly involved in this and if he is a potential target, he has a right to know and as his brother, I have an obligation to tell him."  
  
"If all the contestants know what's going on there will be a panic," Dylan cautioned Frank.  
  
"Joe isn't the kind to panic," Frank pointed out. "And if he knows someone is trying to keep him from winning that will just make that much more determined," he added, trying to get him to realize why Joe knowing would be a good thing.  
  
"I still wish Joe didn't have to know," Dylan said. "But I understand what you're saying and I respect your decision," he conceded.  
  
"Good," Frank said, smiling. "Now, can I ask you a question?" Principal Dylan nodded his agreement. "Where did you call me from?" Frank wanted to know.  
  
"Right here," Dylan replied, nodding at the phone. "Why?"  
  
"Because on the way over here a dark green Ford truck ran me off the road," Frank told him, picking up the phone and looking for some kind of transmitter.  
  
"Why didn't you say something before?" Dylan asked, concerned.  
  
"Because I wasn't hurt and until you mentioned what kind of vehicle ran the Cornwell students off the road, I didn't know there was a connection," Frank answered, prying the top off the phone's receiver.  
  
He frowned and put the phone back together and sat it down. Next he looked at the lamp on the table, then all over the room. He went outside and looked around with the principal following him.  
  
"Footprints," Frank said, looking at the ground beneath the window.  
  
"So someone overheard me talking to you and then took off to stop you from coming over," Dylan said.  
  
"No," Frank disagreed with a shake of his head. "There wasn't enough time for the person to get over to my house before I left."  
  
"Unless whoever it was heard me telling Dr. Vaughn I was going to call you and left then," Dylan said, frowning thoughtfully. "I discussed it with him before calling and asking for your help," he added, a bit apologetically. "But I never mentioned where you live," he added, wondering how the intruder could have known where to find Frank.  
  
"Unfortunately, having everyone know where we live is part of the downside to Dad having his office at home," Frank said with a grimace. "All you would have to of done was mention our last name," he added.  
  
Back at the Hardy home, Joe finished his paper and put his book and notebook back in his backpack. He entered Frank's room and saw his physics book lying open on the bed but no sign of Frank. He went downstairs in search of Frank and found his mother in the kitchen rolling out biscuits. "Where's Frank?" Joe asked, snitching a piece of the dough and popping it in his mouth.  
  
"He had an errand to run," she replied, not looking up from her task. "He'll be back shortly," she added. "Have you finished your homework?"  
  
"Yeah," Joe answered. "I guess I'll go for a run. Do I have time?" he asked.  
  
"Be back in thirty minutes," she told him.  
  
"Okay," he agreed. "To the park and back," he told her where he was going as he took off out the back door. He started down the street, waving at Mr. Clemmens, their new neighbor at the end of the block, as he rolled out his lawn mower. Joe hadn't seen Mrs. Clemmens, her having gone into the hospital the day they moved in, but Mr. Clemmens seemed nice enough, Joe thought as he ran on past the corner.  
  
Thinking of the neighbors, Joe paid no attention as a green truck started it's motor and followed him.   
Frank arrived home just as Mrs. Hardy was setting the table. He had stopped by the police station to file a report on the hit and run then hurried home to talk to Joe. "Smells good," Frank said, coming into the dining room. "Need help?" he asked.  
  
"No," she replied with a smile. "What did your principal want?" she asked.  
  
"I'll tell you and Joe at the same time," Frank prevaricated. "I guess he's still upstairs. I'll go and get him," he added and moved to leave the room.  
  
"He left around thirty minutes ago," Mrs. Hardy said, causing Frank to stop and stare at her, his heart racing a bit faster.  
  
He bit his lip and took a breath before asking in a calm voice, "Where did he go?"  
  
"He went for a run to the park and back," she informed him. "He should be back soon," she added, seeing the worried look in Frank's eyes. "What's wrong?" she demanded, growing alarmed.  
  
"Nothing," Frank quickly assured her, flashing a phony smile. "I'll go wash up," he added, leaving the room. By the time he returned, Mrs. Hardy was wearing a worried frown.  
  
"He should have gotten home by now," she said, looking at her eldest son with troubled blue eyes.  
  
"Let's give him five more minutes and then I'll go look for him," Frank said. "You know Joe," he added. "He'll probably be late for his own funeral."  
  
Mrs. Hardy gave a half-smile at Frank's attempt at humor then went into the living room and sat down. Frank followed her and took a chair by the phone, amazed when it began ringing before his bottom had touched the chair.  
  
"Hey, is Joe there?" came the deep baritone of blond and beefy Biff Hooper, Joe's seventeen-year-old best friend.  
  
"No," Frank answered. "He went to the park and hasn't gotten back yet."  
  
"Your mom said the same thing when I called earlier," Biff said. "And I waited for him to put in an appearance out front, but he never did."  
  
"Did you see a dark green Ford truck in the area?" Frank demanded at once, alarmed.  
  
"Yeah," Biff replied. "It had a dent on the right front bumper," he added.  
  
"Where did you see it?" Frank asked, his heart racing.  
  
"It was heading down the street past the park." 


	3. Chapter 3

Frank closed his eyes and swallowed. Obviously, Joe had been kidnapped or worse. "Did you..." Frank started to ask if he had seen the driver when Joe's voice rang out from the kitchen.  
  
"He's here," Frank said. "I'll have him call you back after dinner," he added, hanging up as Joe came into the living room.  
  
"Where have you been?" Frank stormed at Joe.  
  
"Geez! Chill," Joe ordered defensively. "What's your snitch?" he demanded.  
  
"You're late!" Frank told him. "You told Mom thirty minutes."  
  
"And I'm only ten minutes late," Joe pointed out. "What's the big deal?"  
  
"We were worried," said Mrs. Hardy, standing up and coming over to Joe. She started to give him a hug but stopped when she saw grass on him. "Where were you?" she asked, curiously.  
  
"I started to the park but Mr. Clemmens was starting to mow his lawn and with Mrs. Clemmens in the hospital, I thought I should stop and help," Joe explained.  
  
Mrs. Hardy smiled at him. "That was very thoughtful of you, dear," she said, watching her son shrug off his good deed. "Run upstairs and get showered and changed," she ordered. "Frank and I will get dinner on the table."  
  
"And after dinner, you need to call Biff," Frank added. "He's called twice." Joe nodded and took off up the stairs.  
  
"Come on," Mrs. Hardy told Frank. "Help me put everything in the oven to heat it up again," she ordered leading the way into the kitchen.  
  
When Joe returned fifteen minutes later, he helped put everything back out and the three sat down to dinner. "When's dad coming home?" Joe asked as he poured himself a glass of milk.  
  
"He said he should be home in a day or two," Mrs. Hardy replied. "He promised to take a couple of weeks off when he got here too," she added and the boys knew their mother had something to do with the promise.  
  
"Now, why were you so upset over Joe being gone when you got home?" Mrs. Hardy demanded of Frank.  
  
"And where did you go?" Joe asked with the lift of a brow.  
  
Frank told them about Principal Dylan's call; their conversation; and the truck. "Are you sure you're okay?" Mrs. Hardy asked, her eyes filled with concern.  
  
"I'm fine, Mom," Frank assured her. "Joe's the one in real danger."  
  
"And the other contestants," Joe added, a frown on his face.  
  
"What is it?" Frank asked, knowing Joe felt he was on to something.  
  
"If none of the contestants know about the trip and cash prize then that can't be the motive for eliminating contestants," Joe stated.  
  
"You're right," Frank agreed, frowning. "Then why is someone taking a chance on killing these kids?" he asked, thoughtfully. A question that went unanswered as they finished their meal.  
  
"You'd better call Biff," Mrs. Hardy said to Joe after they had finished eating.  
  
"Hey!" Frank said, his eyes brightening. "Ask him if he saw the driver of that truck," he instructed Joe who nodded his agreement then trotted off to the living room to make the call while Frank stayed to help with the dishes.  
  
"Joe! I've been trying to reach you," Biff said when he answered. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"  
  
"Not really," Joe answered. "We've got a new case but it's too late tonight to do anything. Why?"  
  
"My cousin, Annie, is in town and, well....." Biff stumbled for the right thing to say.  
  
"Forget it pal," Joe told him. "Vanessa would kill me."  
  
"Oh, no, it's not like that," Biff hurriedly assured Joe. "Her birthday is tomorrow and mom and dad are spiffing the place up tonight. Annie wasn't supposed to get here until tomorrow, so now I've got to keep her occupied until I can drop her off at my grandparents later tonight. Grandma and grandpa are helping to get the place ready."  
  
"So why do you need me?" Joe asked. "Take her to a movie."  
  
"And if she doesn't want to go?" Biff demanded. "Look, she's always wanting to meet my friends and you're my best friend," he begged.  
  
"All right," Joe gave in laughing.  
  
"Great! I'll pick you up in twenty minutes and we'll meet her plane. Thanks Joe!" Biff enthused.  
  
"Hold it!" Joe shouted before Biff could hang up. "Frank wanted to know if you saw who was driving the green truck he asked you about earlier."  
  
"I guess I did but I didn't pay much attention," Biff admitted. "All I could tell you was that it was an older guy."  
  
"How old?" asked Joe.  
  
"Maybe in his forties," Biff answered. "I'm not sure."  
  
"Ok, thanks," Joe said hanging up. He turned to Frank and started to relay the information but was halted by the ringing of the phone.  
  
"Hello," Joe said, picking it up. "Oh, hi Con," he said and listened a bit more. "Frank will be right over," he promised, hanging up the phone.  
  
"Over where?" demanded Frank when Joe turned around.  
  
"Shore Road," answered Joe. "Up near the cliffs," he added. "Your green truck was found abandoned," he explained. "You'll have to go alone," he added and told him about promising to help Biff.  
  
"What about the driver?" demanded Frank.  
  
"All Biff noticed was the guy might have been in his forties," answered Joe.  
  
"Well at least it's not one of the contestants," Frank said. "Be careful," he begged Joe.  
  
"Relax," Joe reassured his brother. "What could happen with Biff around?" he asked grinning. "Biff's muscles have muscles."  
  
Frank left before Biff arrived and drove to Shore Road. He pulled to a stop behind a squad car. "Just in time," Con said watching Frank get out of the boys' van and come over. "Forensics just finished," he told Frank.  
  
"Did you find out who owns it?" Frank asked.  
  
"It was reported stolen by a Michael Wilson three days ago," Con told him. "He lives at 743 Corbin Drive in East Bridge."  
  
"That's where the first attack was," Frank commented thoughtfully.  
  
Con nodded. Frank had told him about the "accidents" when he had stopped by and filed a report on his own accident.  
  
"Why didn't Joe come with you?" Con inquired. Frank told Con about Joe's plans for the evening.  
  
Con broke out laughing. "Poor Joe," he said. "He gets tongue tied around older women."  
  
"Yeah," Frank agreed grinning. "Biff should be ready to scream by the time this night is over."  
  
Joe and Biff arrived at the airport in time to hear Annie's plane being announced. "What are we going to do first?" Biff hissed standing near the gate where the passengers were to unload.  
  
"Why are you so nervous?" demanded Joe grinning at his friend.  
  
"Because my cousin would make mincemeat out of your Aunt Gertrude," Biff answered.  
  
"No way!" Joe argued. His father's sister, Gertrude Hardy came across as a strict, stubborn woman who was set in her ways and demanded everyone behave properly at all times in her presence. Joe swallowed nervously at the thought of someone worse than his aunt then laughed at himself as he remembered what a charade it all was. His aunt was considerate and went out of her way to treat him and Frank with the affection she felt their dad neglected to give them.  
  
"Here she comes," Biff muttered.  
  
Joe looked over and saw two women emerging from the doorway. "Which one?" he asked, his eyes on the woman with her hair up in a bun, wearing a dress that stopped just below her knees.  
  
"The one with the crew cut," Biff whispered back, smiling brightly as she came nearer. A strangled noise came from Joe's throat that he quickly hid by coughing.  
  
"Are you all right?" Biff's cousin asked Joe as she came to a stop by the boys.  
  
"Yes, Ma'am," Joe replied looking at the auburn-haired woman who stood eye to eye with him. Her six-foot frame was packed into an Army Officer's outfit and her icy blue eyes stared into Joe's questioningly.  
  
"Annie, this is Joe Hardy. Joe, my cousin, Annie Hooper," Biff introduced the two.  
  
"Pleased to meet you Lieutenant Hooper," Joe said, holding out his hand.  
  
"Don't be so formal," Annie said taking Joe's hand and smiling at him. "I'm on leave. You can call me Annie," she whispered in a conspiratorial tone. She leaned over and kissed Biff's cheek. "So how's my favorite young cousin?" she asked him.  
  
"I'm here," Biff answered, looking at her curiously. "You seem different," he said.  
  
Annie laughed. "Probably because the last two times you saw me I was in front of my commanding officer. Now, I'm off duty for two weeks and plan to have some fun."  
  
"I think we can make that happen," Biff replied grinning at Annie. "I'll grab your bags and we'll be off."  
  
"I've got my gear," Annie told him holding up her duffel. "Lead on," she ordered.  
  
"Let me take that," offered Joe politely.  
  
"That's okay," she said smiling at him. "I'm used to it."  
  
They made their way out to Biff's van and climbed inside. "I guess you two are going to drop me off at gramps," she said. "What are you two planning on doing tonight?"  
  
"We three," Joe said stressing the number, "are going to the amusement park. You said you were ready for some fun so let's check out Cowboy Bob's Wild West Adventure Theme Park," he suggested.  
  
"Isn't it too late for that?" Annie demanded looking at Joe questioningly.  
  
"It doesn't close for three more hours," Biff answered for Joe. "And anyone who buys a ticket after five pm gets in tomorrow for free," he added.  
  
"That sounds great," Annie agreed. "But I had better stop off and change into civvies first."  
  
"But that's all the way at the other end of town," complained Biff.  
  
"Let's stop at Barney's Burgers," Joe said. "You can change in the ladies room and we might get to the park in time for the next clog show."  
  
"I'm game," Annie said. Five minutes later, Biff pulled into the parking lot at Barney's Burgers.  
  
"Want anything?" Biff asked Annie as the three of them got out.  
  
"Burger, fries and a chocolate shake," she told him, pulling her duffel out of the van. "I'll meet you back here in ten," she added, taking off.  
  
Joe and Biff went inside and got in line. "Thanks, man," Biff said as they waited. "You're a lifesaver."  
  
"Hey, you've really saved my life," Joe retorted with a grin. "More times than I care to remember."  
  
"Speaking of which," Biff said, frowning. "What was with Frank and the green truck?"  
  
Joe looked around and shook his head. "Too crowded," he said. "I'll fill you in later," he promised.  
  
"Okay," Biff said. "Then tell me why you were called to the office today?" Grinning, Joe told Biff about the upcoming tournament.  
  
"Well all right!" Biff shouted, throwing up a hand and exchanging a high five with Joe.  
  
"This is taking forever," Joe said looking at his watch.  
  
"Yeah. Why don't you go on out to the van with Annie and wait?" Biff suggested. "I'll bring the grub as soon as I can."  
  
"Deal," Joe agreed and headed out. He stepped outside and saw Annie wearing jeans and a tee shirt standing by Biff's van. "Hey!" he yelled, getting her attention as he started across the parking lot.  
  
Annie looked over at Joe as he started across. Her eyes went wide as she screamed, "Look out!" Joe turned his head as he heard a car approaching. Instead of slowing down as it neared him, the car sped up. 


	4. Chapter 4

Joe stumbled backwards and fell onto the trunk of a car. He lifted his left foot and put it on the bumper and planted his hands over his head on the car. He did a backward flip and landed on the top of the car as the renegade vehicle scraped along the bumper of the car Joe was on before taking off out of the parking lot and down the road.  
  
Annie ran over to Joe as a crowd began to gather. Restaurant patron's rushed out and Biff pushed his way through. "You okay?" he demanded, staring at Joe who sat on top of the damaged car.  
  
"I go through all of this and you still don't have our food?" demanded Joe trying to make light of the situation.  
  
"My car!" screamed a short man with curly black hair coming out of the restaurant. "Get off my car!" he shouted at Joe when he saw him.  
  
"You hold it right there mister!" Annie ordered the irate man poking him in the chest and glaring down at him. "Someone just tried to kill him and hit your car in the process," she informed him. "You get your priorities straight and zip it!"  
  
Annie ended her triad and looked over at two uniformed employees. "Have the police been called?" she demanded.  
  
"And an ambulance," was the reply.  
  
Joe jumped down from the car. "You had better take it easy until the paramedics check you out," Annie told him.  
  
"I'm okay," he assured her. Then he looked around at the people gathered around them. "Did anyone get a good description of the car or driver?" he asked. "Or the tag number?" he inquired as sirens made themselves heard in the background.  
  
A few people admitted to having seen the car and/or the driver but most just shook their heads. "Okay," Joe continued. "The police will want to talk with anyone who can help provide a description but would the rest of you please go back into the restaurant and wait until the police have finished?"  
  
Annie looked over at Biff. "One would almost believe he knows what he's doing," she commented with twinkling eyes.  
  
"He does," Biff informed her. "Joe and his brother, Frank, are detectives. They're working on something now and that is probably why someone just tried to run him down."  
  
Annie looked back to where Joe was talking to the man who owned the car he had just been on. "And he's only seventeen?" she asked, shaking her head in awe.  
  
The police and the authorities arrived shortly and a large black van with side and back doors pulled in behind one of the squad cars. Frank Hardy climbed down from the driver's seat of the van and made his way over to where Biff stood. "Joe?" he asked.  
  
Biff nodded in the direction of Joe and Frank hurried over not giving the woman with Biff a second glance. "That's Joe's brother, Frank," Biff explained Frank's rudeness to Annie.  
  
Frank reached Joe and grabbed his shoulder. "You okay?" he demanded as Joe turned to look at him.  
  
"Never touched me," Joe assured his worried brother with a grin as Frank's eyes scanned Joe's body for damage. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was with Con when the call came through," Frank answered. "I thought you might be the boy who was involved in the hit and run."  
  
"Learn anything about the truck?" asked Joe. Frank told Joe what Con had told him, finishing as two paramedics came over.  
  
"I'm all right," Joe told them, refusing to let them check him.  
  
"Let them do their job," ordered Frank sternly. Biff snickered and Annie grinned as Frank made Joe sit down and get checked out.  
  
Biff introduced Annie to Frank while the medics took care of Joe. After they had declared him okay, causing Joe to smirk at his brother and friends, Con came over to take statements from Joe, Biff and Annie.  
  
Biff, having been inside, could give no information but Annie turned out to be an excellent witness. "It was a new blue neon Sentra," Annie described the car. "The tag was Maine issue DGK-4139. The driver had a brown cowboy hat pulled down over his hair. I didn't get a good look at him but he was wearing a green tie and brown blazer."  
  
"You're very observant," Con complimented her.  
  
"Thank you," she replied. Joe could add nothing more to the description so Con told them they could leave. He remained to fill out a report about the damage to the patron's car.  
  
"It's getting too late to go to the park tonight," observed Annie. "Why don't you boys just drop me off and go have some fun?"  
  
"No way!" Joe declared. "We still haven't eaten. Let's head over to Mr. Pizza," he suggested aware of the grateful glance Biff threw at him. "You'll probably get a chance to meet more of Biff's friends there."  
  
"After meeting you, I'm not sure if I could handle any more of Biff's friends," Annie retorted playfully, grinning her acceptance of the plan anyway.  
  
"I think I'll give it a pass," Frank said. "Mom's expecting me back and well..." he broke off.  
  
"You don't want to leave her home alone for too long," Biff guessed wrongly. "We'll drop Joe off later," he promised.  
  
Joe shot Frank a look before he joined Biff and Annie in Biff's van. Joe knew Frank was going to find out who owned the car that had nearly run him down and probably run a check on everyone who had a hand in the creation of the tournament.  
  
Once they were underway Biff glanced over at Joe. "Okay, give," he ordered. "What are you guys working on?" Joe told Biff and Annie about the attacks on the tournament contestants and the secret prize.  
  
"But if none of the contestants know about the prize.." Annie began.  
  
"Then there has to be some other reason for the attacks," Joe finished for her. "We're thinking it has to involve someone who helped set it up," he continued. "But we still need a motive," he concluded as Biff pulled to a stop in the parking lot of Mr. Pizza.  
  
Across town, Frank had arrived home and told his mom about the attack on Joe, assuring her that he hadn't been hurt. "I'm going to use dad's office for a bit," he said, heading toward the stairs.  
  
Frank sat down at his father's desk and logged on the computer. Mr. Hardy, formerly of the New York City Police Department and currently the foremost private investigator in the world, had access to several databases even other investigators did not have and it was these Frank used to conduct his research.  
  
Frank began his investigation by running a check on the person who owned the green truck. Michael Wilson was an employee of Braun Enterprises. Frank's brow furrowed in thought. His father had taught him and Joe that in a mystery there was no such thing as a coincidence. Obviously, someone from Braun Enterprises was involved in the alleged accidents. Frank, however, did not believe it was the truck's owner. Too obvious.  
  
Next, Frank looked up George Braun. The man had inherited Braun Enterprises upon his father's death nine months previously. He graduated from Princeton University before becoming the vice president of Braun Enterprises.  
  
Frank then checked Braun Enterprises' finances. According to the last report, the company was doing very well. Frank sighed. From the looks of things, Braun Enterprises didn't need to negotiate with the schools for their businesses but he was glad they did. Frank grinned. Joe wouldn't care nearly as much about the money as he did about the trip. Knowing Joe, he would use the money to pay for their friends to accompany him. And me, of course, he added silently, looking up the tag number for the car that had nearly run Joe down earlier.  
  
"Figures," Frank groaned out loud. The tag belonged to a '87 Chevy that had been totaled several years ago. I should have known it would be untraceable. Frank logged off and stood up. He turned off the monitor and headed to the door. Opening it, he nearly crashed into his father.  
  
"Dad!" Frank exclaimed in surprise, looking at the man whose reflection mirrored his own in about twenty more years.  
  
"Hi, Son," Mr. Hardy greeted Frank. "Your mother said you and Joe were working on a new case."  
  
"Yes," admitted Frank. "I was just doing some research," he explained. "You finished your case?" he inquired.  
  
"I did," Mr. Hardy said. "And it's good to be back home. London seems colder than Bayport." He entered his office as Frank stepped aside. "Want to tell me about your case?" he asked as Frank took a seat in front of his dad's desk. Frank told him about Principal Dylan's phone call, the contest, the prizes and the attacks on the contestants, including Joe.  
  
Mr. Hardy frowned but before he could comment there was a loud yelp from outside and the sound of a trash can falling over. 


	5. Chapter 5

Both Hardys rushed out of the room and down the stairs. When they arrived outside they split up, each taking a different direction toward the back of the house. Arriving at the scene, they took one look at the hapless youth and burst into laughter.  
  
"Grruf," Joe mumbled, trying to tell the huge Saint Bernard to get off of him as it licked his face. Joe finally managed to push the dog's face away long enough to reprimand his father and brother. "Ha, ha," he growled. "Now get this monster off of me!"  
  
Still nearly hysterical, Frank and Mr. Hardy rushed over and pried the big dog off of Joe. Joe extracted himself from the garbage can and its contents, having been pushed into it by the neighbor's dog.  
  
Joe stood up and gingerly lifted a rotten banana peel from his shoulder. His nose was wrinkled in disgust as he let it fall onto the various smelly objects littered around his feet. "I wish the Brookshires would keep their mutt inside or get a stronger leash," Joe said, slowly making his way through the debris  
  
Joe stepped over the last two cans and looked up just in time to see the dog break away form his dad and Frank. It launched itself at Joe fro a second time.  
  
"Oof!" Joe cried out, tumbling backward into the trash once again. At this point, Frank fell to his knees because he was laughing so hard while their dad wiped the tears of merriment from his eyes his own laughter so vocal it dwarfed Frank's guffaws.  
  
Joe surrendered. He lay there and let the dog lick him all it wanted as he waited for rescue.  
  
Mr. Brookshire arrived to take his dog away, offering to return and clean up the mess. Mr. Hardy thanked him but told him they would take care of it. He did, however, have pity on Joe and sent him to take a shower while he and Frank picked up.  
  
Later, all of the Hardys were gathered in the kitchen. Mrs. Hardy set cups of cocoa in front of her sons, then brought two more over to the table. She gave one to her husband and then sat down and took a sip of hers.  
  
"Mmm," Frank said appreciatively, taking a sip. "You make the best cocoa," he said looking at his mom.  
  
"That's because it isn't from a mix," she informed him. "Now, why don't you tell your father about your case?" she suggested.  
  
"I did," Frank informed her. "But Joe and his sweetheart interrupted us," he finished, his eyes twinkling in amusement.  
  
"That monster's name is Sweetheart," Joe clarified, glaring at Frank. "She isn't MY sweetheart."  
  
"But she obviously likes you," teased Frank.  
  
"Enough," Mr. Hardy ordered, seeing Joe's eyes grow darker. Hiding his own smile, Mr. Hardy leaned back in his chair, letting it balance on its back legs as it rested against the counter. "How many contestants were there before the accidents started happening?"  
  
"Six schools times three contestants," Joe said. "Eighteen."  
  
"And how many have been taken out of the tournament and from which schools?" Mr. Hardy inquired.  
  
Frank got up and left the room. When he returned, he had a notebook and a pen. He wrote down the names of each of the schools then listed the number of entrants and the accidents. "So far, East Bridge is down to two contestants and Cornwell only has one left."  
  
"So there are fifteen potential targets left, including you?" Mr. Hardy observed, looking at his youngest son. "And the tournament is one week from this Saturday?" he asked.  
  
"In Tomlin," Joe specified.  
  
"What do you intend to do first?" Mr. Hardy asked.  
  
"I have to practice every afternoon and all weekend," answered Joe, frowning at Frank. "I don't really want you to investigate this alone," he added.  
  
"I know," Frank said, smiling fondly at Joe. "But we do need to go to East Bridge."  
  
"Why don't you see if Chet can go with you tomorrow after school?" Mrs. Hardy suggested.  
  
"Good idea," approved Joe. "And after I finish practice, I can meet up with you guys."  
  
"Sure," agreed Frank. "Just keep your cell phone handy."  
  
They talked for a little longer and Mr. Hardy told them what he could about his latest case. It was Mrs. Hardy who finally stood up and announced it was time for bed. The boys bade their parents goodnight and went to bed.  
  
The next morning, Principal Dylan caught the two brothers as they were entering the school. "Could you two come to my office, please?" he requested, his face set in a serious expression.  
  
Inside Dylan's office, Frank and Joe took seats in front of his desk. "Someone else has been injured?" guessed Frank.  
  
"Margaret Stover from Mercury," Dylan replied. "She was practicing last night at the gym and the balancing beam broke. She ahs injured her back and is out of the tournament."  
  
"That means there must be at least three people involved,' Joe said.  
  
"Why do you say that?" asked Dylan, looking at Joe curiously.  
  
"The equipment must have been in use during regular school hours," explained Joe. "So whoever sabotaged the equipment had to have done so after school. That person couldn't have gotten from there to here in time to eavesdrop on you or try and run Frank off the road."  
  
"There's more bad news," Frank broke into the conversation. "Someone tried to run Joe down last night at Barney's Burgers."  
  
Dylan looked distraught at the news. "Are you all right?" he asked in concern.  
  
"I'm fine," Joe assured him. "But since the attempt failed, Emily or Nick may be the next target here."  
  
"Or you could still be a target," Dylan said, looking at Joe sternly. "You had better not let your guard down now."  
  
"I won't," Joe promised, grinning at him. "But I think it wise to keep an eye on Nick and Emily too."  
  
Dylan nodded his agreement. "The only problem is these "accidents" haven't been limited to school grounds."  
  
"You have to tell them," Frank insisted. "Leave out the prize part if you like, but they deserve to know what's been going on."  
  
Dylan sighed. "You're right, of course," he admitted. "I'll tell Nick and Emily this morning and suggest to Dr. Vaughn that all of the contestants be informed."  
  
The boys left the office and headed for their homerooms. Chet Morton, a stout boy with blond hair and brown eyes, was in Frank's homeroom. Frank told him about the case and asked him to accompany him to East Bridge after school.  
  
"I'll call home and see if it's okay," Chet promised.  
  
When lunch time rolled around, Frank made his way to the cafeteria. He spotted Chet and Biff along with some of his other friends seated at their usual table. Going over, a pretty blond with brown eyes smiled at him. Frank took the seat next to the seventeen-year-old girl.  
  
"Hey, babe," Frank whispered so only she could hear.  
  
"Hi, yourself," she returned, grinning at him. Callie Shaw had been dating Frank for almost a year now but she still turned to mush when she looked into his beautiful brown puppy dog eyes.  
  
"Give it up," ordered olive skinned Tony Prito from the end of the table. He looked at Frank through dark eyes. "What's this mystery that Biff and Chet mentioned but refused to divulge any details about?"  
  
"Do tell all," seconded Phil Cohen, a bookish boy with hazel eyes, putting both elbows on the table and cupping his chin in anticipation.  
  
"Wait," Vanessa stopped him before he could begin. "Where's Joe?"  
  
"I saw him talking to Emily in the hall," Biff said. "He should be here shortly."  
  
"Does your new case have anything to do with the tournament?" Callie asked Frank. She, along with the rest of Bayport High School, had been told about the tournament this morning over the intercom.  
  
"Everything," admitted Frank, his eyes scanning the line entering the cafeteria until he spotted his brother. His whole demeanor became relaxed as Joe approached the group and sat down next to Vanessa.  
  
"I take it Principal Dylan talked to Nick and Emily?" asked Frank, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah," said Joe. "Emily wants to quit but said she would stick it out as long as I stayed in the tournament."  
  
"What's going on?" demanded Callie, her eyes going from one brother to the other.  
  
Frank told everyone about the "accidents" that were plaguing the contestants and about Principal Dylan's asking them to help out. Vanessa looked at Joe in concern. "Shouldn't someone watch the participants?" she asked.  
  
"My thoughts exactly," Frank said approvingly. "Someone should check the equipment before it's used and be with the contestants while they are in the gym." He stopped speaking and frowned. "But the problem is that a lot of the kids are being hurt outside of the school."  
  
"Which means that whoever is behind the mishaps has to know who the contestants are," Phil said.  
  
"That's right," agreed Frank. "Why didn't we think of that?" he asked looking at Joe. "It has to be someone directly involved with the creation of the tournament."  
  
"I don't like the sound of that," Callie said, looking sick. "That means the superintendent or even one of the principals could be involved."  
  
"Or someone connected with Braun Enterprises," Frank added and told them about the owner of the truck.  
  
"What we need to do is get inside Braun Enterprises," Joe said, his expression less than happy.  
  
"Don't worry, baby brother," Frank told him, knowing Joe was upset because he had to practice and couldn't go undercover with him. "Chet and I will keep our guards up."  
  
"What are we going to do about Emily and Nick?" Vanessa asked.  
  
"Maybe Vanessa and I could hang around Emily and make sure she gets home okay?" suggested Callie.  
  
"That would be great," Frank said. "But be careful, hmm? I don't want you two getting hurt."  
  
"We will be," promised Callie and Vanessa nodded her head in agreement.  
  
"I wish I could help out but mom and dad are expecting me to keep Annie entertained while she's on leave," Biff apologized.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Tony told him. "Phil and I can keep track of Nick."  
  
The bell rang announcing the end of lunch and the young people left for their various classes. After school, Frank and Chet left in Chet's jalopy, leaving the van for Joe to drive home after he had finished practice. They made a quick stop at the Hardy home to don disguises before continuing to East Bridge.  
  
"Fill out these applications," the secretary told Frank and Chet, handing them each a piece of paper and a pen.  
  
Chet finished his application first and returned it to the pickle-faced woman behind the desk. She looked it over, her cat like eyes giving it close scrutiny. "I see you are applying for night janitor," she said, looking up into his eyes.  
  
"Yes...yes, ma'am," Chet stuttered caught unaware by her fixed stare.  
  
She returned his application. "Go down the hall to the fourth door on your left," she told him. "You will need to see Mr. Curtis."  
  
"Thank you," Chet replied but the dour woman had already turned her attention elsewhere. Chet rolled his eyes at Frank before heading down the hall.  
  
Frank finished his application and walked up to the secretary. She gave it the same scrutiny she had Chet's then sent him down the hall to see Mr. Matthews.  
  
Frank stopped in front of the door with Grey Matthews's name on it and knocked. "Come in," came an order. Frank entered and came face to face with a man who reminded him of Robert Shaw, Callie's father.  
  
He was roughly five foot eleven with sandy brown hair and green eyes. But where Mr. Shaw had twenty /twenty vision, this man wore a set of wide plastic framed glasses. Too, Mr. Shaw was lean but this man was rather large although Frank could tell it was due more to muscles than fat.  
  
"Yes?" he asked as Frank stepped inside.  
  
"My name is Frank McGuire," Frank introduced himself using the alias he had chosen for the application. "I'm here to apply for a part-time position."  
  
"Part-time?" Matthews repeated with the lift of a brow.  
  
"I'm still in high school," Frank admitted. "But I am going to Georgia Tech next fall to major in software design," he lied. "I was hoping I could learn something before I go."  
  
"A kind of internship?" Matthews asked. At Frank's nod he continued. "We haven't any internships available at the present although we have been discussing starting some." He took Frank's application and looked it over. "We can't offer any credit but a part-time position is available for you if you would like?"  
  
"That would be great!" Frank enthused with shining eyes.  
  
"You can start tomorrow morning at eight, but I will show you where you will be working now," he said, standing up.  
  
Frank followed him out of the door and down the hall past the open door of Mr. Charles Curtis where Chet was listening to the man explain what was expected of him. Frank caught a glimpse of Curtis as he sat on the edge of his desk talking to Chet. The man had on a brown blazer and a cowboy hat sat perched on a file cabinet behind him! 


	6. Chapter 6

After school, Joe headed to the gym. He had expected Nick, Emily, and his friends to be there but was taken aback by the amount of students who had remained after school to watch their chosen champions practice. To date, gymnastics had ranked low on the popularity scale but Joe realized this contest had changed many people's minds about the sport.  
  
Tony, Chet and Phil were in the process of checking the equipment to ensure it was safe to use. Vanessa, seeing Joe enter the gym, ran over and gave him a hug. "It's like a pep rally in here," she told him.  
  
"Who knew this thing would be so popular?" Joe asked, shaking his head in awe as he gave a little laugh.  
  
"Nervous?" Vanessa inquired, grinning as she gazed into his baby blues.  
  
"Not a bit," Joe denied. "I've performed in front of a crowd before."  
  
"But football and basketball are team sports," she pointed out. "You're on your own here."  
  
Joe shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he replied. "Once I start, all of my concentration is on what I am doing and not on my surroundings."  
  
"Considering what's going on, I'm not so sure that's a good thing," Vanessa stated, her face marred by a frown.  
  
"Relax," he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You, Callie, and the guys are here keeping things under control. Emily, Nick and I will be fine." Vanessa gave him a small smile but her anxiety remained obvious.  
  
Joe gave her a last reassuring wink then headed to the boys' locker room to change. When he returned, Emily was on the balancing beam and Nick was practicing his back flips. Joe headed for the rings. He stopped just underneath them and performed his warm-up exercises before jumping to reach the rings.  
  
All too quickly seven o'clock arrived. Nick jumped off the balancing beam and bowed to the crowd of students as they clapped loudly. Emily did a final triple turn and landed perfectly, her hands in the air as another round of applause erupted. Joe finished his routine on the mats and fell onto one knee with his hands in the air as sweat dripped down his back. Everyone stood and they clapped their approval.  
  
Joe grinned and waved then followed Nick down to the showers. "You were really good out there," Nick congratulated Joe.  
  
"Thanks," Joe replied. "You too."  
  
"Too bad this contest isn't a group thing," Nick said, pulling off his shirt.  
  
"Yeah," Joe agreed, an idea coming to him. "Hey, what say if one of us wins this contest, we all reap the benefits?"  
  
"What did you have in mind?" asked Nick putting his shirt down and looking at Joe.  
  
"Did Principal Dylan tell you everything?" Joe questioned before answering.  
  
"You mean, did he tell Emily and me about the prize money and trip, then yeah," answered Nick.  
  
"What I suggest is that if one of us wins then the work-out station gets donated to Bayport High for everyone to use and the prize money goes for the three of us and our families to attend the Olympics together," Joe put forth his idea.  
  
"I like it," Nick enthused, a smile covering half of his face. "But we will have to get Emily's agreement."  
  
"If we hurry, we can probably catch her before she heads home," Joe said, yanking off his shirt as Nick headed for the showers.  
  
They caught up with Emily just outside of the gym. She was talking to Vanessa and Callie as the two boys approached. "Where's Tony and Phil?" Vanessa asked as Joe and Nick approached.  
  
"There they are," Callie answered for Joe as the two boys in question exited the gym at a run and slowed down to a trot when they saw Joe and Nick standing there unharmed.  
  
"Sorry guys," Joe apologized, his cheeks becoming suffused with red. He had forgotten Tony and Phil were supposed to keep an eye on Nick.  
  
"We were just trying to catch up with Emily before she left," Nick explained.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Emily inquired, her brown eyes clouding over with worry.  
  
"Not at all," Nick told her as she nervously flipped an ebony braid over her shoulder. "Joe had a great idea and we wanted to run it by you and see what you think," he said then launched into dialogue about it. When he finished, Emily clapped her hands excitedly.  
  
"What a fantastic idea!" Emily stated. "Count me in."  
  
"Cool," Phil agreed. "If any one of you wins then you all do!"  
  
"And so does Bayport High," Vanessa put in. "That workstation is the best on the market."  
  
After this, the teens split up and Joe went to the van. Because of the extra practice Vanessa had let Joe out of their normal Friday night date. Upset at the time, he now appreciated her gesture for he was starting to ache. He wanted only to go home, have dinner and go to bed. He supposed he should be glad Frank had told him to call and not just drop in at Braun when he had finished.  
  
Joe pulled the van to a stop in the drive at the back of the house. Getting out, he grabbed his backpack and headed to the kitchen door. It was locked. He pulled his key ring form his pocket and inserted it. Opening the door, he paused at the entrance wondering why everything was so quite.  
  
He closed the door gently behind him and started toward the door leading into the dining room but stopped when his eyes hit on a note tacked the message board:  
  
Boys, your father and I have gone out for the evening. There's a pizza in the fridge. Love, Mom.  
  
Joe dropped his backpack by the doorway and went to the refrigerator. Grinning, he pulled the pizza box out and set it on the kitchen table. He opened the box. "Mushrooms?" he asked, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Frank liked them but he didn't particularly care for them.  
  
Shaking his head, he let the lid fall and went to a cabinet and pulled out a glass. Filling it with milk from the fridge he sat down at the table. Pizza was good hot or cold and right now he was too hungry to wait for the mike to do its thing.  
  
He peeled most of the mushrooms off then started devouring his first slice. He finished the slice and half of his milk and started on a second slice. Two bites into it, the phone rang.  
  
Joe groaned at the interruption but got up to answer it, carrying the slice he was munching on with him. Joe swallowed and answered the phone. "Hello," he greeted the caller.  
  
"Hey, Baby Brother," Frank said. "How as practice?"  
  
"Long," Joe replied. "I was going to call you and then hit the sack."  
  
"It's only just gone eight," Frank pointed out.  
  
"I know. But unless you have something specific in mind, I'm going to bed," Joe asserted. "Hoe did it go at Braun Enterprises?" he asked.  
  
"Good," Frank informed him. "Chet has already started so I'm driving his car. Tomorrow morning when he gets off is when I start. You will have to pick me up tomorrow afternoon," he ended.  
  
"No problem," Joe answered, wincing as he felt a cramp in his stomach. "When will you be home?"  
  
"I'm almost there," Frank told him.  
  
"Good. I'll save you some..." Joe broke off as a major cramp caused him to drop his pizza and grab his stomach as he doubled over in pain.  
  
"Joe?" Frank yelled into the phone, his knuckles white as he gripped his cell phone listening anxiously for Joe to speak again. "Joe? Are you okay?" he shouted.  
  
"H..help," Joe gasped, dropping the receiver and falling to his knees, both hands closing over his stomach. 


	7. Chapter 7

Terrified, Frank disconnected then hit the preprogrammed key for 911. He told the operator about his call and he was assured an ambulance was on its way. He stepped on the gas and pushed the limit as he headed home, unaware he had picked up a tail.  
  
As he screeched to a halt in his driveway a red jeep came to a stop behind him and out jumped Tony and Phil. "What's wrong?" demanded Phil, running to catch up with Frank.  
  
Phil and Tony had been on their way home after escorting Nick safely to his when they had seen Frank speed by them, his face white and mouth grim.  
  
Frank grabbed the knob of the front door and turned it, not taking the time to answer his friend. Scared to death about Joe, Frank didn't waste time with his key when he discovered it was locked. He stepped back and kicked out. The door splintered open and Frank hurried inside with his friends close on his heels.  
  
"Joe!" shouted Frank, rushing toward the kitchen where strangled sounds could be heard above the wail of sirens which were drawing closer.  
  
Frank pushed on the kitchen door but felt resistance. He pushed a little harder but not too hard in case the block happened to be Joe. It was! Joe was on the floor, writhing with salvia falling from the side of his mouth. His blue eyes were glassy and he was having a difficult time breathing.  
  
The phone cord had become wrapped around Joe's ankles preventing him from kicking but his arms were flailing wildly about. As they watched, Joe fell silent. Tony and Frank hurried forward to remove the phone cord as Phil raced outside to greet the ambulance and police that had pulled to a stop beside the ambulance.  
  
Joe was strapped down to a stretcher with an oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth. Frank rode in the ambulance with Joe while Phil and Tony followed in the jeep. The police remained to see what had created Joe's violent reaction.  
  
As the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Joe slipped into a coma. He was whisked back to the doctor and Frank was made to wait. Phil and Tony arrived a few minutes later. While Tony kept Frank company, Phil called Vanessa and Callie and then the Hardy home to leave a message for Mr. and Mrs. Hardy on their answering machine in case the police left before they returned.  
  
Two hours passed with Frank pacing the waiting room floor. Vanessa and Callie had arrived to wait and while Callie, Phil and Tony sat silently watching Frank prowl the floor in frustration, Vanessa sat by the window with tear stained cheeks.  
  
"This is all my fault," Frank muttered as he paced. "I knew he was a target but what do I do? I leave town," he answered his own question in absolute disgust.  
  
"Stop it," ordered Phil. "It isn't your fault. If anyone is to blame, it's me. Tony could have watched Nick by himself while I kept an eye on Joe."  
  
"Hold it," Callie stepped in. "We don't even know what's wrong with Joe," she pointed out. "It may have nothing to do with the case."  
  
"She's right," Tony concurred. "Weren't all of the other contestants injured in accidents?"  
  
Frank nodded and started pacing again. The waiting was always torture. He glanced at his watch. Where were his parents?  
  
Another hour passed before Fenton and Laura arrived. "How is he?" demanded Laura, running ahead of her husband and coming to a stop in front of Frank who was now sitting beside Callie.  
  
"I don't know," Frank said, not looking up.  
  
"What happened?" asked Fenton, putting an arm around his wife's shoulders and looking down at Frank.  
  
"He ingested some poisonous mushrooms," came an authoritative voice from behind them. The Hardys turned to look at the tall, balding man who walked toward them. "I'm Dr. Marvin," he introduced himself. "He will be okay. Provided he stays on the high complex carbohydrate diet I have given him," he added.  
  
"He doesn't need to be on a diet," protested Frank.  
  
"This diet is designed to flush out the poisons that his body has absorbed. He needs to stay on it for two weeks and then he must have a blood work-up to ensure his system is clean at that time."  
  
"But he is all right now?" Vanessa asked.  
  
"He's conscious and doing well," Dr. Marvin confirmed. "You can see him whenever you like and he can go home tomorrow afternoon."  
  
"Why not now?" inquired Mr. Hardy, his forehead creased in worry.  
  
"He has had at least two seizures that we know of and I think a period of observation would be prudent under the circumstances."  
  
"Thank you," Fenton said, holding out his hand and grasping the doctor's in a firm handshake.  
  
"He's in room 412," Dr. Marvin said when his hand had been released. "I'll check on him again later tonight and tomorrow his regular doctor will be here for a final examination before Joe is released. Good night," he added, returning the way he had come.  
  
The group entered the elevator and got off on the fourth floor. Frank was the first one to reach Joe's room and he stopped in the doorway and emitted a relieved sigh when he saw his younger brother propped up and waiting for them to arrive.  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked Frank entering the room and going to stand at Joe's bedside.  
  
"Like I ate a bag of cotton balls," Joe replied, his nose wrinkling in distaste.  
  
"What happened?" Vanessa asked, she and the others had made their way inside and had encircled Joe's bed.  
  
Joe shook his head and gave a slight shrug. "I just ate some of the pizza," he said.  
  
"What pizza?" asked Frank, his forehead wrinkling in puzzlement.  
  
"The one mom and dad left in the fridge from Mr. Pizza," answered Joe.  
  
"The mushrooms were from our place?" Tony exclaimed in shock. Mr. Pizza was owned and operated by Tony's family.  
  
"I don't believe so," Fenton commented. "We didn't leave a pizza in the refrigerator."  
  
"But there was a note on the bulletin board," Joe objected and told them what it said. "It was a pepperoni and mushroom pizza but I picked most of the mushrooms off," he ended.  
  
"Thank God you did," Laura said with immense relief. "If you had ingested any more of those mushrooms you would probably be dead."  
  
"So someone forged the note and left the pizza for Joe," Phil summarized. "But who knew you two wouldn't be home when Joe got there?" he asked the elderly Hardys.  
  
"We went shopping," Fenton informed the teens. "When we left the mall, we had a flat tire."  
  
"Fenton finally got that changed and we started home but the car started making a funny noise and it stalled out on the interstate," Laura picked up. "We waited at the garage for the car to be repaired until just a little bit ago. We checked the answering machine as soon as we got home and came straight here when we heard Phil's message."  
  
"Someone is going to more trouble to get at Joe then they did with the other contestants," Fenton observed, realizing that their car had been tampered with.  
  
"But why?" Callie demanded reasonably. "Why would this person perceive Joe as more of a threat?"  
  
"Maybe because Principal Dylan inadvertently told someone besides me about Joe," Frank theorized.  
  
"What did he say about me?" asked Joe curiously.  
  
"He said Nick and Emily were good but you were a natural," Frank repeated the compliment.  
  
"And if he said that in front of the wrong person then Joe moved to the front of the line as a threat," Vanessa said, holding Joe's hand.  
  
"I hate to interrupt but visiting hours are over," said a middle-aged nurse.  
  
"Should Joe be left alone?" Frank asked his dad.  
  
"I'll be fine," Joe said before his dad could answer. "I doubt this guy will try anything in such a public place."  
  
"I still think I should stay," Frank said.  
  
"You have to go to East Bridge and continue the investigation," Joe pointed out.  
  
"Speaking of which, did you get in?" asked Phil.  
  
"Yes," Frank acknowledged. "Chet is there now. He's the night janitor."  
  
"Then you have to go home and get some rest," Joe insisted. "And Dad will have to go to the police station and file a report about someone leaving a poisoned pizza at our place." He took on a thoughtful look. "Tony, the box was from Mr. Pizza. Is there any way to find out who all ordered pepperoni or pepperoni and mushroom pizzas today? It was a large," he added.  
  
"Everything is on computer," Tony replied. "Pick up orders are kept for three days before being deleted and deliveries for a month."  
  
"Is it too late to check it out tonight?" Vanessa inquired.  
  
"It's Friday," Tony answered. "We're open until two a.m. I'll stop by after I drop Phil off and get a list. You can pick it up on your way back from the police station, Mr. Hardy."  
  
"Thank you, Tony," Fenton acknowledged gratefully.  
  
The nurse cleared her throat. "We're going," Vanessa said, leaning down and kissing Joe's lips. Everyone bid Joe goodbye and Laura promised she would call Principal Dylan about Joe missing practice and would be back to pick him up the next day.  
  
At home, Frank got ready for bed and set his alarm clock. He lay down and fell into a fitful sleep. Less than an hour later he sat up in bed breathing heavily. He had just dreamed that Joe had fallen off a balance beam fifty feet in the air! He knew it was only a nightmare but he was too worried to go back to sleep. He got dressed and left a note on his pillow for his parents and returned to the hospital.  
  
Careful not to get caught, he made his way to the fourth floor. Seeing no one at the nurse's station, he hurried to Joe's room. Opening the door, he felt as if someone had rammed a tree trunk into his stomach. A man in a surgeon's mask was standing over Joe ready to pierce his upper arm with a hypodermic needle! 


	8. Chapter 8

Frank raced across the room and grabbed the arm of the attempted assassin. Without missing a beat the man dropped the needle and brought back his other arm. The hand transformed into a fist and he let it fly at Frank's jaw.  
  
Frank crashed back and fell to the floor. Waking at the unexpected commotion Joe saw the intruder and reached out. He yanked the mask from the man's face. The room was too dark for a good look but Joe did glimpse a square jaw line and a clean-shaven face before the culprit turned and fled.  
  
Joe got out of bed and went to his brother. Frank, unhurt, glared at Joe. "Back in bed, now," he ordered in a firm but quiet voice. Recognizing the tone as one their father used when he brooked no argument, Joe hurried back to bed and pulled the quilt up to his waist.  
  
"Are you all right?" Frank demanded, once again on his feet. He came to stand beside Joe.  
  
"Never touched me," Joe assured him. "Unlike some," he couldn't resist adding.  
  
Frank gave him a sour look. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked curiously.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," Frank replied with a shrug not wanting Joe to know how worried he had really been. Joe was always teasing him about worrying too much but Frank knew it was times like these when there was no such thing as too much.  
  
"Going to call the nurse?" asked Joe although he knew Frank wouldn't because he would get kicked out.  
  
Frank shook his head. "The guy is long gone," he said. "I'll just stay here and make sure he doesn't come back," he added sitting down in the recliner and leaning back.  
  
"But if he's long gone, whey would he come back?" Joe asked cheekily. Frank shot him another dark look. Joe smothered a laugh and lay back. He told Frank what the guy had looked like beneath the surgeon's mask.  
  
"I'll keep an eye out for him tomorrow," Frank promised, yawning. Joe waited until Frank had fallen asleep then slipped out of bed and covered Frank up with his sheet. He returned to bed and pulled his quilt up. Turning on his side, he fell asleep.  
  
A nurse came into the room a little later to check on Joe and frowned when she saw Frank sleeping in the chair. She started to wake him but then realized it probably wouldn't do any good. She had worked at this hospital for eight years and knew from experience even if she ordered Frank to leave he would just sneak back in. She went over and quietly touched Joe's wrist, looking at her watch. A minute later, she was gone.  
  
When Joe woke up the next morning Frank was just exiting the bathroom with his disguise in place. "Be careful," Joe cautioned him. He couldn't help worrying about his brother being in a den of criminals without backup. Frank lifted a brow and gave Joe a grin that clearly said he should practice the sport himself.  
  
Not long after Frank left, Joe was surprised by two visitors: Biff and Annie Hooper. "Happy belated birthday," Joe greeted Annie as she entered the room followed by her cousin.  
  
"Thanks," she replied, smiling at him.  
  
"Tony called last night and told me what happened," Biff said. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Better," Joe answered, grinning up at him. "I knew I hated mushrooms for a reason."  
  
"Tony said to tell you he gave your dad the list but he didn't think it would be of much help. One pepperoni pizza was sold to a Todd Dylan and picked up at four-fifteen."  
  
"But since Principal Dylan was in the gym with us at that time then it couldn't really have been him," Joe finished for Biff. "I wonder if someone remembers who picked up the pizza," he added thoughtfully.  
  
"Here, find out," Annie said, handing Joe the phone from the table beside his bed.  
  
Joe took the phone and dialed the Prito's home phone number. When Isabel, Tony's younger sister by four years, answered, Joe asked to speak with Tony.  
  
"He isn't here," Isabel told Joe recognizing his voice from the countless times he had called or come over. "He went with your dad somewhere this morning," she explained. "But he should be at the restaurant by ten."  
  
"Thanks," Joe said preparing to hang up.  
  
"Joe!" Isabel called loudly to stop him from disconnecting.  
  
"Yes?" Joe asked, concern lining his voice at the frantic tone that registered in her voice.  
  
"I'm glad you are all right," Isabel told him in a rush then hung up before Joe could respond.  
  
"I guess Dad already thought of it," Joe said, hanging up the phone and giving it back to Annie who returned it to its proper place.  
  
"When do you get out of here?" asked Biff.  
  
"Sometime this afternoon," Joe answered. "Coach Anderson is going to kill me for not showing up for practice," he added glumly.  
  
"Isn't your mom going to let him know what happened?" Biff asked in surprise.  
  
"Sure," Joe replied. "But you know Anderson. He's worse than Coach Harmon," he added referring to the boys' football coach.  
  
"Well, there's nothing he can do about it," Annie asserted.  
  
"Except make me practice longer every day to make up for it," Joe amended her statement.  
  
The two Hoopers stayed for a little while longer, leaving when a nurse arrived with Joe's breakfast. Joe frowned at the runny eggs and burnt toast but dug in anyway. He was famished and even this was better than nothing.  
  
When Frank arrived at Braun Enterprises the dour secretary looked up at his entry then ignored him. Relieved, Frank headed down the hall to his designated working area. He passed by an open office door and saw Chet finishing up.  
  
Seeing no one else in the vicinity, Frank slipped inside and shut the door. "How did it go?" asked Frank.  
  
"This is hard work," Chet grumbled. "I'm exhausted."  
  
"You've been at it since I left yesterday?" Frank demanded in surprise.  
  
"No," Chet denied. "I walked into town and had dinner and caught a movie. Then I had a snack before coming back here," he informed Frank. "But there are twenty offices here and four bathrooms plus that sourpuss's working area and I have to get them all cleaned in eight hours."  
  
"I know," Frank said. "And we really appreciate your help."  
  
"Too bad Joe had to practice yesterday and today or he could have gotten a janitorial position here too," moaned Chet.  
  
"Joe's not practicing today," Frank informed him. "He's in the hospital."  
  
"Why? Chet demanded, immediately contrite. "What happened? Is he okay?"  
  
"He's fine," Frank assured his robust friend and filled him in on the events of the previous evening.  
  
"I pulled some papers out of the trash in a couple of the offices," Chet told Frank. "Every office has a shredder but in these two the shredders weren't working."  
  
"Good job," Frank congratulated him. "Can you run them by the hospital and let Joe have them?" he requested. "Maybe we will get lucky." Chet promised to do as asked and Frank slipped out of the room and continued down the hallway to his area.  
  
Chet finished up and left East Bridge, hitting Billy Bob's drive-thru on his way out of town. He drove straight to the hospital and made his way up to Joe's room. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked as he entered the room.  
  
"Bored," Joe answered, looking at the bag Chet was holding curiously.  
  
"Well, maybe this will ease the boredom," Chet said, grinning as he set the bag down on top of Joe's legs and opened it up. He pulled out the papers he had salvaged from the offices at Braun and told Joe where he had attained them.  
  
"I'm going home now," Chet said, trying unsuccessfully to smother a yawn. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't be," Joe said. "You have had a long night. Go home and get some sleep. I'll see you later."  
  
Laura returned to the hospital at a quarter after two. "Hi, Sweetie," she greeted her son who sat anxiously on his bed wearing the clean jeans and shirt Frank had thought to bring with him the night before. "The doctor has already been in to see you?" she asked.  
  
"No," Joe admitted. "But I've had my vitals checked and my blood pressure taken. All that's left if for the doctor's signature."  
  
"But most patients wait until after I release them to get dressed," said Dr. Bates, the Hardy's family doctor, with an indulgent smile as he entered the room behind Laura.  
  
Joe shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. "I've got a lot to do," he admitted.  
  
The doctor frowned but kept quite as he checked Joe out. Finished, he looked at Joe's chart. "You said you have a lot to do," he commented. "Like what?"  
  
"School and practice," Joe answered. Not to mention a mystery to solve, he added silently.  
  
"What kind of practice?" the doctor inquired.  
  
"Gymnastics," Joe informed him.  
  
"Will that be a problem?" Laura asked, her blue eyes filling with concern. She knew how much Joe wanted to compete but if it was going to put him at some kind of risk then she would forbid him to participate.  
  
"I don't think so," Dr. Bates answered, smiling when he heard Joe's relieved sigh. "But I want you to limit your practice to an hour."  
  
"An hour?" Joe exclaimed with blue eyes wide in protest.  
  
"You can have two practice sessions a day but only for an hour at a time," Dr. Bates affirmed. "If you experience any light-headedness or nausea you are to go straight to the hospital."  
  
"For how long?" inquired Laura.  
  
"At least until Wednesday," was the reply. "Joe will have to come back for another blood work up to make sure all the poison has left his system. If it has then he can go back to his normal routine after that."  
  
"Great," Joe grumbled. "But can I leave now?"  
  
"You can," agreed Dr. Bates, signing Joe's release form and handing it to Laura. "But I need to see him Wednesday and then again two weeks after that. Just for a follow up," he added so as not to alarm her any more. "Take this to the nurse," he instructed. "And you wait for a wheelchair," he added quickly to Joe. "It's policy." 


	9. Chapter 9

Joe climbed behind the wheel of his mother's car. "Need to borrow it?" Laura asked getting in on the passenger side.  
  
"If you don't mind," Joe said. "I need to run over to East Bridge," he informed her. "One of the contestant's addresses was on a piece of the trashed paper Chet brought over this morning."  
  
"Please be careful?" she begged him.  
  
"I will," Joe promised. "And I have to pick Frank up after he gets off work. I can't use the van in case someone recognizes it. And Frank and Chet using the same car while working different shifts isn't cutting it."  
  
After Joe dropped his mom off at home, Joe drove to East Bridge and stopped at a convenience store to fill up and ask directions. Fifteen minutes after hitting the road again, he pulled to a stop in front of a greasy cafe across the street from an apartment building.  
  
Joe exited the car, making sure to lock it and activate the alarm, before crossing the street and entering the building. He took the steps up to the fifth floor and knocked on the door of apartment five twelve.  
  
"Who is it?" inquired a crackly voice from the other side.  
  
"My name is Joe Hardy," Joe answered. "I'm looking for Clinton Reins."  
  
"He's not here," the woman answered.  
  
"Could I leave you my number?" Joe asked. "He could call me collect."  
  
"Collect?" she demanded. "Where are you from?"  
  
"Bayport," answered Joe. "Please?" he begged. "It's very important that I talk to him."  
  
"All right," she agreed. "What is it?"  
  
"It's on this card," Joe said, pulling out one of his father's business cards and sliding it under the door. "Just tell him to ask for Joe or Frank."  
  
"Hello," Matthews greeted Frank as he entered the office.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Matthews," Frank returned politely.  
  
"Let me show you what we have been working on," Matthews said, leading Frank over to the computer. He leaned over and clicked an application then stood back and waited for Frank to take his seat.  
  
Matthews left Frank alone a little later and Frank wasted no time in shrinking the program and exploring the other files on the computer. After an hour, Frank growled in frustration. He hadn't been able to find anything useful. He needed to explore, but where to start? Curtis! That was the man who had given Chet his instructions that was wearing the same color blazer and had the cowboy hat. He could have been the driver of the truck.  
  
Frank left his office and moved down the hall. He rapped gently on Curtis' door and, after receiving no reply, tried the knob. Locked. He quickly slipped the lock pick kit his dad had given him for Christmas the previous year from the back of his pants pocket and selected a piece. Seconds later, he slipped inside and locked the door behind him.  
  
What first, he wondered as his eyes darted from the computer desk to the file cabinet? Frank went for the top drawer of the desk, deciding that anything pertinent to the owner would be in the desk rather than in the computer since the hierarchy of the company could access it.  
  
Pay dirt! Frank thought, opening the second drawer. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of photographs. He frowned as he looked at each photo and the information on the reverse side. The pictures were school photographs with only the student's name and the name of their school on the reverse. As an employee of Braun, Curtis could have a legitimate reason for possessing the photographs. Sighing, Frank put the photos back and kept searching for something incriminating.  
  
After thirty minutes, Frank exited the office locking it after him, and returned to his own workplace. "Ah, there you are," Matthews said when Frank walked in. "I was wondering where you had gotten to."  
  
"I went to the restroom," Frank fibbed.  
  
"I'm afraid I have to leave for a meeting in a little bit and won't be back today," Matthews informed Frank. "I wanted to go over the program you have been working on and add the alternate sequence Bryan just completed but there isn't time so I was wondering if you would mind coming in tomorrow afternoon?"  
  
"Of course not," Frank agreed, surprised Matthews worked on Sundays.  
  
"Excellent," Matthews stated, smiling. "I will see you tomorrow around two then."  
  
After Matthews left, Frank got to work on the program. It was obvious he would have to spend more time at the company and he had to have something to show his boss the next day.  
  
When Frank got off work Joe was waiting in the parking lot. Frank walked over and climbed into the passenger seat. He grinned at Joe's choice of hats. "Barney, huh?"  
  
"Not a word," growled Joe. "It was all the convenience store had."  
  
"What did Dr. Bates say?" Frank asked as Joe started the motor and pulled out of his space.  
  
Joe told him about his limited practice sessions and having to go back for a work up. "Only an hour?" asked Frank, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "That's good. You can get your practice in and then we can go home and get a little shut-eye."  
  
"I'm going to practice. You are going home and to bed," Joe stated firmly. "Tony and Phil will be there," he added, seeing Frank open his eyes and start to argue. "And you haven't had much sleep. The chair at the hospital couldn't have been comfortable."  
  
Frank shook his head. "I don't want you alone. At all," he added sternly.  
  
"I was alone all afternoon and nothing happened to me," Joe pointed out. "Besides, one of us needs to be home in case Clint calls."  
  
"Who?" Frank asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Clint Reins," Joe said.  
  
"One of the contestants from East Bridge," Frank stated, remembering what the boy looked like from the photos he had discovered. "Why would he call us?"  
  
"Because I left one of Dad's cards with his mom," Joe explained. "His name and address was the only thing I could find that was even remotely useful out of the mess of papers Chet brought over."  
  
"What about the pizza?" asked Frank. "Did Dad find out anything?"  
  
"Principal Dylan ordered the pizza," Joe informed his brother. "But since he was at practice when it was picked up it obviously wasn't him. I tried to get a hold of Tony this morning but he had gone somewhere with Dad."  
  
"Probably to talk with whoever sold the pizza and get a description of the person who picked it up," Frank guessed.  
  
He looked over at Joe as they came to a stop in the Hardy drive a little later. "Be careful," he cautioned Joe. "Go straight to practice and come straight home."  
  
"Yes, Dad," Joe replied obediently.  
  
Frank frowned at Joe. He didn't appreciate Joe's levity when his life was in danger.  
  
"Relax, Bro," Joe said, grinning. "Go to bed. I will be there when you wake up," he promised.  
  
Joe watched Frank go inside before taking the car out of park and driving to school. He gave Coach Anderson the note he had gotten from Dr. Bates about his limited practice schedule before going to the boys' locker room to change.  
  
Tony was sitting on a bench waiting for Nick to get dressed but leapt to his feet as Joe entered. "Hey! How are you feeling? Are you sure you should be out of bed?" demanded Tony, hurrying over to Joe's side.  
  
"I'm fine," Joe assured his overwrought friend. "Dr. Bates even gave me permission for two one-hour practice sessions a day."  
  
"That's not much," Nick said, frowning.  
  
"Considering the condition Joe was in last night, it's a miracle," Tony told him, then explained what had happened.  
  
"This is insane," Nick said, running a hand through his hair nervously. "We aren't even safe at home now? I quit!" he declared. He snatched up his clothes and left the locker room.  
  
"With all the "accidents" I don't understand why the tournament just hasn't been canceled," Tony commented.  
  
"That's a very good question," applauded Joe, the center of his forehead between his brows crinkled as he pondered the problem. "You know, the more things that happen the more convinced I am that the person behind this works for Braun Enterprises."  
  
"Why?" asked Tony. "Because your dad found out the guy who ordered the pizza was in his forties and was driving a car with an East Bridge High bumper sticker on it?"  
  
"He did?" asked Joe in surprise.  
  
"You haven't talked to your dad yet?" asked Tony.  
  
Joe shook his head. "What else did he find out?"  
  
"Just the description of the guy and the car," Tony informed him. "Sally was the one who waited on him but apart from a general description and a fast look at his car as he pulled out of the lot, she couldn't tell your dad anything else about the guy. But if you didn't know that, then why do you think it is someone at Braun?"  
  
"Actually, there isn't any solid evidence to link Braun to the anything that's been going on," Joe admitted. "It's just that the only other possibles are the school superintendent and the principals of the various high schools."  
  
"And that isn't something you want to believe could be happening," Tony said, frowning. He didn't want to believe it either. 


	10. Chapter 10

"Do you think one of the principals or even the superintendent could be behind these attacks?" asked Frank, watching his father's face closely. He had considered the possibility but had refrained from pushing the issue until Braun Enterprises had been ruled out. Too, although Joe had been around, he was a bit naive and wanted to believe in people. That was one of the reasons Frank was so protective of his younger brother. Even after all he had experienced, Joe still had that spark of innocence lurking in his eyes. A spark that Frank refused to allow anyone to extinguish.  
  
"It is a possibility I wouldn't rule out just yet," Fenton acknowledged, watching his eldest son, still in the disguise he had worn to work, smother a yawn. Fenton had heard Frank enter the house and had asked him to join him in his office to discuss the case. He had informed Frank about his findings at Mr. Pizza. The description had fit no one Frank had seen at Braun. "I'm going to see what I can dig up on everyone involved, including Dr. Vaughn and your principal. You keep looking into Braun Enterprises."  
  
"You don't really think Principal Dylan is involved, do you?" Frank asked in surprise. Dylan was the last person he would have suspected.  
  
"It's best to check out everyone," Fenton told his son. "That way, there won't be any surprises down the line." He suppressed a smile as Frank fought off another yawn. "Why don't you head on to bed?" he suggested. "You're dead on your feet."  
  
"I'm going," said Frank agreeing with the suggestion and standing up. "But if Joe isn't home in," he paused and glanced at his watch. Joe had been gone twenty minutes already. "In another hour and a half, wake me up."  
  
"I will," Fenton promised.  
  
"Joe!" Principal Dylan called Joe over when he and Tony exited the locker room. "Can I see you for a minute?" he requested when Joe looked his way.  
  
Joe hurried over to the principal's side. "It occurred to me that you and your brother might want to see the entry requirements that were dispatched to the competing schools," Dylan said, setting his briefcase on a bleacher and opening it.  
  
"Nice," Joe commented appreciatively. The briefcase was black leather with a golden combination lock. The handle was thick and had the look of snakeskin.  
  
"Isn't it?" Dylan agreed, smiling. "Mr. Matthews gave one to each of the principals."  
  
"Was that part of the deal Dr. Vaughn made with Braun Enterprises?" inquired Joe.  
  
"No," Dylan denied. "As a matter of fact, I spoke with Dr. Vaughn and informed him of your's and your brother's investigation. He gave me a photocopy of the contract between the Board of Education and Braun Enterprises for you to peruse."  
  
"Excellent!" Joe asserted, giving the principal a wide smile.  
  
Dylan pulled out two sets of papers and handed them to Joe. "Perhaps you could tell me why Nick was leaving instead of practicing?" he asked Joe, closing the briefcase again.  
  
"I'm afraid he got spooked and quit," Joe admitted. "He found out someone tried to poison me and..."  
  
"Poison you?" thundered Dylan, shocked. "When did this happen? Are you sure you are all right?"  
  
"Last night," Joe informed him. "Mom was going to talk to Coach Anderson about my missing practice today but Dr. Bates said I could practice on a limited schedule until Wednesday and after that I might be able to go back to it full time."  
  
Principal Dylan looked shaken. "I had no idea," he said. "Well, obviously, some or I wouldn't have called you boys in on this in the first place," he amended. "But," he broke off and shook his head. "Perhaps our school should pull out of this competition," he suggested.  
  
"Can you do that?" asked Joe curiously. "What about the competition?"  
  
"Any school can decide not to compete," Dylan informed him. "It's in the contract. As a matter of fact, Dr. Vaughn told me earlier this afternoon that Southport High has decided to withdraw. Their principal thought it wasn't worth having the students hurt and I am inclined to agree."  
  
"No," Joe asserted, shaking his head. "I'll talk to Emily and get her to quit," Joe continued before his principal could voice an objection. "But if you pull the school out of this we may never find out who is behind the attacks and sabotage."  
  
"Emily is competitive," Dylan said. "You might not have such an easy time convincing her to quit."  
  
"Actually, Nick, Emily and I came to an agreement about the winnings," Joe said. "It doesn't matter who actually wins the tournament because we will all win." He explained about the way they had planned to divvy up the prize.  
  
"That is an excellent idea!" Dylan congratulated him. "But you will be careful?"  
  
"Like I have choice?" Joe asked with a rueful grin. "Frank is making sure I'm watched non-stop during practice. The only time I am going to be alone today is on my way from the car to the house when I get home. Tony is going to follow me home and once there, Frank won't let me out of his sight until he goes to work tomorrow."  
  
"Work?" Dylan asked.  
  
"Frank got a job at Braun Enterprises," Joe informed him.  
  
"But won't you be left unguarded while Frank is away?" Dylan inquired in a worried tone.  
  
"We have a state of the art alarm system," Joe told him. "And if I do leave home, I will call one of the guys to accompany me," he promised, seeing Principal Dylan was not being reassured about Joe's safety.  
  
"Hardy!" Coach Anderson's voice split the air.  
  
Joe grimaced. "I better hop to," he said. "The coach wasn't too pleased with my only getting to practice for an hour twice a day."  
  
"Tough," Dylan said, frowning. "Your well-being is more important than any trophy the school would get. I will have a word with him."  
  
"That's not necessary," Joe told him. "Coach barks but I don't think he bites."  
  
An hour later, Joe fell to his feet from the balancing beam and headed to the locker room. After showering and changing, Joe caught Emily as she was on her way to the girl's locker room. The coach had decided she had practiced enough for the afternoon as well.  
  
She wasn't too happy with bowing out of the competition but she did agree after Joe promised her that if he won she and Nick would still be treated as equals in the win.  
  
"You do realize you have just made yourself a bigger target, don't you?" asked Tony, scowling after Emily moved away.  
  
"What was I supposed to do?" demanded Joe. "Dylan was going to pull us out of the competition."  
  
"Hey!" Phil shouted, running up to Joe and Tony in the parking lot.  
  
"Where have you been?" asked Tony.  
  
"I followed Nick home," explained Phil. "I know he quit but the bad guys don't know it."  
  
"Yet, anyway," Joe corrected him.  
  
Tony told Phil about Joe getting Emily to bow out of the competition. Phil shook his head. "Frank's going to blow his lid."  
  
"No, he won't," Joe replied. "Now we only have one person to take care of at this school: me. It will be much easier."  
  
"You do have a point," Phil admitted. "Especially since I will be your shadow when Frank isn't around."  
  
"You don't have to do that," Joe said.  
  
"I know," Phil said. "But I want too. Let me call my folks and I'll go home with you."  
  
"No need," Joe said. "Frank is there. He doesn't have to go back to East Bridge until tomorrow afternoon. If you want to come over about one, that would be great?"  
  
"I'll be there," Phil promised.  
  
"Let's go," Tony said, rushing Joe along. "I need to get to Mr. Pizza. My shift starts in thirty minutes."  
  
"Go ahead," Joe told him. "I'm going straight home. I'll be fine."  
  
"And I will follow him to make sure he gets there," Phil said.  
  
"Okay," Tony agreed. "But be careful," he told Joe, his voice holding a warning. He knew how easily Joe got into trouble without even trying.  
  
"I will," Joe promised laughing. "I will."  
  
Joe went to his mother's car and climbed in. He waited until Phil got in his red jeep before starting the motor. The two boys left the school and headed toward the other side of town. Joe made the left at the first traffic light and frowned when he heard an unfamiliar sound emanate from the car. He turned right at the second light and heard it again. He decided to pull over and check it out before going any further but the next safe place to pull off the road was almost a mile ahead down Bayview Hill.  
  
Since the car hadn't made the sound before and it obviously wasn't the brakes, Joe didn't think anything about continuing to the next stopping place. He slowed down to thirty-five miles an hour just before he reached the crest of the hill. Joe turned the wheel to go into the curve at the top of the hill but the car kept on its path. Any second now and he would go off the road and crash into the concrete wall! 


	11. Chapter 11

Wasting no time, Joe unsnapped his seat belt and scooted up and over the front seat, giving a silent prayer of thanks that his mother's car had the gear shift on the steering column instead of in the floor. He hit the floor in the back as the front end crashed into the concrete pillar.  
  
Phil pulled to a stop behind Joe, jerking out his cell phone as he did so. "Joe?" Phil called out as he neared the wreckage.  
  
"I'm okay!" Joe shouted. "But I'm stuck."  
  
Phil poked his head in the missing rear window. He could see Joe's feet protruding from beneath the front seat but his upper torso and head were absent. "Are you bleeding?"  
  
"Not much," Joe replied. "A little. But nothing hurts all that much. I'm just stuck."  
  
"That's because the front of the car is now part of the back," Phil said, hitting the appropriate numbers on his cell phone. He gave the location of the accident and all the details he could about Joe's condition.  
  
"I'm going to call your brother," Phil told Joe after he had finished with emergency services.  
  
"No!" Joe shouted. "He needs some rest. I'm fine."  
  
"If I didn't tell him then he wouldn't be my friend anymore," Phil pointed out as he hit the speed dial.  
  
At the Hardy house, Fenton heard Frank's cell ringing from the hallway and entered his room. Frank stirred on the bed as Fenton pulled the phone from Frank's jeans' pocket. "Hello?" Fenton answered, dropping the pants back onto the chair where Frank had lain them.  
  
"Mr. Hardy?" Phil's voice came through, slightly perplexed that he was answering Frank's cell.  
  
"What's the matter Phil?" inquired Fenton, recognizing Phil's voice and the urgency therein.  
  
"There was an accident," Phil said. "Joe's okay, but he's trapped in the car."  
  
"Where are you?" demanded Fenton, gripping the cell a little tighter. Phil had said Joe was okay but until he could see his son for himself he could not relax.  
  
"At the curve on Bayview Hill," Phil answered. "I've already called for help."  
  
"We're on our way," Fenton said, looking at Frank who was already reaching for his clothes.  
  
Fenton hung up. "Joe's been in an accident," he said and gave Frank all the details Phil had passed on to him. "I'll get your mother. You pull my car out of the garage."  
  
The Hardys reached Bayview Hill minutes after the rescue team arrived. "How is Joe?" Fenton demanded of Sergeant Con Riley who was the officer in charge at the scene.  
  
"He's conscious and lucid," Con quickly informed the distraught family. "He assures us he is all right but the paramedics won't be able to access his actual injuries until we can get him out."  
  
Phil came over to join them. "He just lost control," he told them. "He said the steering wouldn't work."  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have let him go alone," moaned Frank.  
  
"He shouldn't be going at all," Laura stated firmly, her lips pressed together in a tight frown. "He doesn't need all of this excitement. Not until the doctor gives him the all clear at any rate."  
  
Frank started over but Con grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. "You need to stay back and let them do their job," he said, referring to the rescue workers. Frank bit his bottom lip but nodded. Con was right. His being in the way wouldn't help Joe at all.  
  
It was almost twenty minutes later before Joe was lifted from the car and placed on a stretcher. "I don't need to go to the hospital," Joe insisted.  
  
"Be quiet and lay still," snapped Laura, going to his side with Fenton and Frank. "We will let the doctor decide if you are hurt or not."  
  
"I'm not," Joe assured her. "But I am sorry about your car," he added, frowning. "Someone must have messed with the steering line. It turned a couple of times but made noises and then..."  
  
"You're lucky to be alive," Phil said, looking over at the remnants of Mrs. Hardy's car.  
  
"I'm lucky mom's gearshift wasn't in the floor," Joe retorted and then groaned.  
  
"We had better get him to the hospital," one of the paramedics said.  
  
Frank rode with Phil and they followed Mr. and Mrs. Hardy to the hospital. "I wonder if there was an attack on Nick or Emily?" Frank said thoughtfully.  
  
"Doubtful," Phil answered. "I followed Nick home earlier and then came back. Vanessa and Callie were taking Emily home."  
  
"Nick left early?" asked Frank.  
  
"He quit when he heard about Joe being poisoned," Phil explained. "Um, Frank.." Phil began hesitantly. "Joe had an idea and the principal agreed with it."  
  
"What?" Frank demanded, his eyes narrowing on his friend. He could tell by Phil's tone that he wasn't going to like it.  
  
"Dylan wanted to drop out of the event all together but Joe convinced him to just have one school champion," Phil informed Frank. "Joe told Emily if he won that she and Nick would still reap the benefits as they had discussed before but it would be safer it were just him participating."  
  
"Makes sense," Frank said in a calm voice. "We wouldn't have to watch Emily and Nick all the time."  
  
Phil kept silent. He knew Frank wasn't finished. "Why does Joe always have to do this?" he demanded, leaning his head back and expelling a breath of angry air. "Okay, it is better for Nick and Emily but it makes it that much worse for him. Doesn't he think about these things?"  
  
"You know Joe," Phil said, shrugging his shoulders. "He never wants anyone to get hurt."  
  
"Except himself," retorted Frank.  
  
"That's not true," denied Phil. "Joe knows he can take more than the average person. He already has."  
  
"But he cold get killed!" Frank snapped.  
  
"He doesn't think so," Phil pointed out. "He is too sure that you will be there to save him."  
  
"You think my being there to save his hide is a bad thing?" Frank asked in shock. "It makes him less careful?"  
  
"That's not a bad thing," denied Phil. "It's just the way you two have always been. You take care of Joe and he takes care of everyone else." 


	12. Chapter 12

Phil waited at the hospital with the Hardys excusing himself only to call his parents and let them know he would be late in getting home.  
  
"How is he?" Laura demanded of the emergency room doctor when he came into the waiting area.  
  
"Joe is fine," Dr. Mason replied with a smile. "He had some glass in the side of one of his legs but it wasn't deep and I removed it and cleaned the wounds. He can go home."  
  
"Thank you," Fenton said, shaking the doctor's hand before he left. "Let's go home," he added as Joe was wheeled into view.  
  
They bid goodbye to Phil who said he would be over the next afternoon to look after Joe before leaving. Then Frank helped Joe into the car as their parents climbed into the front seat. "Did anyone think to get my gym bag?" asked Joe.  
  
"No," Fenton answered. "But don't worry, we'll get you a new one."  
  
"I need this one," Joe declined the offer. "Principal Dylan gave me a copy of the contract with Braun Enterprises to go over."  
  
"I'll swing by the garage and get it out of the car," offered Frank.  
  
"You will do no such thing," Laura contradicted him. "Your father can get it. You are both going to have some dinner and then go straight to bed."  
  
Frank awoke early the next morning and went to check on his brother who was still sleeping soundly. Deciding not to awaken him, Frank took his shower, brushed his teeth, got dressed and headed down the hall to his father's office. He walked in to see his father reading the contract he had retrieved from the wrecked car the night before.  
  
"I would have thought you had already gone over that," Frank commented in surprise from the doorway.  
  
Fenton looked up, his concerned brown eyes meeting Frank's curious ones. "I did," he admitted, leaning back with a sigh. "This is the weirdest contract I have ever seen. I think I am going to take it to Barry Crumpler and have him look it over." Crumpler was an attorney in town whom his father consulted on cases that involved questionable contracts.  
  
"What's wrong with it??" Frank asked, entering the office and taking a seat in front of his father's desk.  
  
"From what I can tell, the tournament will only take place if at least three of the schools in the district compete," Fenton began.  
  
"Makes sense," Frank said. "You couldn't have a competition if there weren't any competitors."  
  
"True," agreed Fenton, wishing Frank would let him finish before interrupting. "But if less than three schools compete then the tournament gets canceled and Braun Enterprises does not have to uphold its side of the contract. However," Fenton stressed, "the schools would still have to purchase all of their computer needs from Braun Enterprises with a minimum total of three million dollars spread out over the next three years."  
  
"Sounds like they are just protecting their interests," Frank said.  
  
"It does," agreed Fenton, his tone hesitant.  
  
"What's bugging you?" Frank asked curiously.  
  
"It's the wording," Fenton admitted. "There's just something about the three million dollars of merchandise the schools must purchase clause that doesn't sound right."  
  
"I admit, that's a lot of money," said Frank, frowning. "But there are a lot of schools in this district and it has been in the news that Dr. Vaughn has been trying to upgrade."  
  
"I know," Fenton replied, still frowning. "I still want Crumpler to look it over," he added, folding the papers up and opening his briefcase. "What are you doing today?"  
  
"I have to be at work by two," answered Frank. "And Joe had practice this morning at ten and again this afternoon at four. I can't go to the one later but I am going to be there this morning."  
  
"Who will be watching your brother later?" asked Fenton.  
  
"Phil will be here at one," Frank informed his father. "He's going to keep an eye on Joe when I can't."  
  
"Good," Fenton said. "I really don't want your brother to be alone until this is over," he ended as the phone rang. "Hello?" he said, picking up the receiver. "Just a minute," he said before handing the handset to Frank.  
  
"Hello?" asked Frank, taking the receiver and holding it up to his ear.  
  
"Hi, this is Clint Reins," Clint said. "My mother said you stopped by my place yesterday and asked me to call you. I would have called last night but I didn't get in until late."  
  
"Practicing?" inquired Frank.  
  
"No," Clint answered. "Trying to talk the principal into letting me compete. He heard Southport pulled out of the competition yesterday morning and Cornwell last night to protect the students and he wanted to as well."  
  
"Did you convince him not to withdraw?" inquired Frank, his brows drawing together as his lips formed a frown.  
  
"Unfortunately, no," Clint replied. "He was going to place the call to the superintendent first thing this morning and withdraw."  
  
"I'm sorry," Frank apologized. "But at least you and the other student won't be in any danger now."  
  
"You're right," Cling agreed. "But it makes me mad to think Sara got hurt for no reason."  
  
"Don't worry," Frank assured him. "Whoever is behind this isn't going to get away with it."  
  
"I know," Clint said and Frank could hear the grin behind his words. "You're the Hardys!"  
  
Frank hung up and relayed the information to his father. "One more school down," Fenton stated grimly. "With Emily and Nick our of the running, they only have to fix it so Joe can't compete to put the clause into effect." 


	13. Chapter 13

Frank headed upstairs as soon as his father left. "Time to get up Baby Brother," he said, entering Joe's room and flipping on the light.  
  
"Ow!" Joe groaned, opening his eyes and immediately closing them again. He threw his arm over his closed eyes. "Kill the light," he ordered.  
  
"You have practice this morning," Frank reminded him. "You need to get up."  
  
"I can get up without the light," Joe growled, lifting his arm high enough to glare at Frank through one eye.  
  
Grinning, Frank turned the light back off. "Forty minutes until we have to be there," he said walking through the bathroom to his own bedroom.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Joe entered Frank's bedroom. "I'm ready," Joe said.  
  
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" asked Frank. "With Nick and Emily out of the picture, you are all that is left to prevent the cancellation of the tournament. From this school anyway," Frank amended.  
  
"What?" Joe demanded.  
  
Frank told him about the call he had received earlier that morning. "That leaves only three schools in the competition and ours is the only one with one competitor left."  
  
"Don't worry," Joe told him. "I'll be extra careful."  
  
"You had better be," growled Frank. "Or I'll kill you."  
  
"He's doing good," Callie said, coming up beside Frank.  
  
"Yes," agreed Frank, not taking his eyes off of his brother. "Especially after yesterday."  
  
"Yesterday?" Vanessa inquired from Callie's other side.  
  
"Oh, that's right," Frank said slapping his hand against his forehead when he realized he nor Joe had spoken to the girls since before the wreck. He told the girls about Joe's accident the previous day after practice.  
  
"Poor Joe," gasped Callie.  
  
"Why does he always have to make himself a target?" moaned Vanessa in exasperation as her eyes scanned her boyfriend's body for visible signs of injury.  
  
"At least we can keep a better eye on him now," Frank said. "Tony and Phil are going to watch him at practice this afternoon and Phil is going to stay at our place while I'm at work."  
  
When Frank reached work that afternoon, Matthews was waiting for him. "I have a gift for you," Matthews said as Frank entered his office. "I noticed you didn't have a briefcase yesterday. In this line of work it is a necessity." He handed Frank a briefcase with a combination lock. "The directions for setting your own combination are inside the case," he informed Frank.  
  
"Thank you," Frank replied, looking at the briefcase in surprise.  
  
"Now, then," Matthews continued. "Why don't you show me what you accomplished yesterday and we will take it from there."  
  
Four hours later Matthews stood up and stretched. "Why don't we take a break?" he suggested. "I need to check with advertising on the upcoming tournament."  
  
"Tournament?" inquired Frank innocently.  
  
"Yes," Matthews replied. "Braun Enterprises is sponsoring a gymnastics tournament for the district high schools. Everyone involved is putting in overtime this week because Dr. Vaughn, the superintendent, wants it held next Saturday."  
  
"Sounds like good public relations," commented Frank.  
  
"Good business too," Matthews replied, smiling. "In return for our small investment the school board has agreed to purchase all their computers and miscellaneous equipment from us over the next three years."  
  
"Mind if I tag along?" asked Frank. "I would like to see how the advertising department is preparing for a major PR event."  
  
"Of course not," Matthews replied seeming pleased at Frank's interest. He led the way down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. They passed two closed doors before coming to a stop.  
  
Matthews rapped lightly on the door before opening it. Two men were standing over a table in one corner of the room and they both looked up as Matthews and Frank entered the room.  
  
Both men were clean-shaven with short brown hair. The tallest one was at least six foot two with a square jaw and brown eyes. The second man was about three inches shorter with green eyes.  
  
"Hello," Matthews said, going over to join the men. "This is Frank McGuire," he introduced Frank. "He's going to be working here on weekends and after school," he explained. "Frank, this is Jimmy Kurtz and Paul Flynn," he introduced first the tall man and then the shorter one. Frank nodded his acknowledgement of the introductions, memorizing the names so he could have a background check done on the men.  
  
"Ready to begin the advertising?" Matthews inquired.  
  
"Oh, yes," Flynn answered. "The television commercials will begin tonight at seven fifty-eight and run twenty-four times a day through Friday night."  
  
"The radio announcements will run every forty-five minutes on eleven different radio stations," Kurtz took over. "All that remains are the billboard advertisements and the newspaper ads."  
  
"And that's what you're working on now?" inquired Frank, looking down at a large white poster board with words and photos attached.  
  
"Yes," acknowledged Flynn with a heavy sigh.  
  
"What's wrong?" inquired Frank curiously.  
  
"The televised advertisements and radio announcements don't specify which schools will be participating," he answered. "But the newspapers ads and the billboards are supposed to list the schools."  
  
"However, every time we get it looking right, another school drops out of the competition," Kurtz concluded.  
  
"Why would they do that?" asked Frank, feigning puzzlement.  
  
"There have been some accidents involving some of the contestants," Matthews informed him. "The authorities believe it has something to do with the contest and the schools are pulling out as a means to protect the students."  
  
"Looks like it would be better just to cancel the contest," Frank observed.  
  
"It was suggested," Matthews said. "But the superintendent vetoed the suggestion."  
  
"He did?" asked Frank genuinely surprised. Surely the lives of the students were worth more than any publicity that could be gained from the tournament? 


	14. Chapter 14

"Let's go," Joe said coming into the living room where Phil was watching the early news.  
  
Phil turned the television off in disgust. "Not one word about all the so-called accidents surrounding this tournament," he said. "It's like some big cover-up."  
  
"It is," Joe stated as they headed outside. "If word gets out it will kill the tournament not to mention offer up bad publicity for Braun Enterprises; the superintendent; the school board; and the principals of the schools."  
  
"So it is in everyone's best interest, except for the contestants, to keep it a secret," Phil snorted.  
  
"Mm-hmm," agreed Joe, getting into the passenger side of Phil's car.  
  
"Tony is meeting us at school, right?" asked Phil. The more he thought about the danger Joe had put himself in the more worried he became.  
  
"Yes," acknowledged Joe with a slight grin. Phil had been hanging out with Frank too much.  
  
When they reached the gym Coach Anderson was talking to Annie Hooper while Biff helped Tony check out the equipment.  
  
"I didn't expect to see you here," Joe said to Biff as he and Phil joined Biff and Tony.  
  
Biff shrugged. "I kind of mentioned I help you guys out on occasion to Annie and she asked why I wasn't this time," he explained. "I told her I hadn't been asked but she realized it was because she was in town and she refused to be the reason you got killed."  
  
"Besides, I love gymnastics," Annie said, joining them in time to hear Biff's explanation. "And I hear you are the best gymnast at Bayport High."  
  
Joe blushed a bit but didn't respond. "I see you are already dressed," Coach Anderson said to Joe. "Let's get started."  
  
"That's it!" Phil called out an hour later.  
  
"After he does back flips from one end to the other," the coach protested.  
  
"Sorry, Coach," Phil said shaking his head. "Doctor's orders."  
  
Coach Anderson gave a little growl but didn't argue. "I want to see you first thing in the morning," he ordered Joe.  
  
"Before school?" asked Joe.  
  
"Seven a.m. sharp," confirmed the coach.  
  
"How about something to eat before we head home?" Tony suggested. "My treat," he added, looking at Joe. Even though it had in no way been his fault he still felt guilty because the poisoned pizza had come from his family's restraint.  
  
"Thanks, but I'm on a special diet for the next two weeks," Joe reminded his friends. "Mom's even going to pack my lunch to make sure I get what I am supposed to eat."  
  
"We'll follow you home then," Biff said.  
  
"Good idea," agreed Phil.  
  
Phil and Joe climbed in Phil's jeep and pulled out of the school's parking lot. Joe turned on the radio and leaned back in his seat. "You didn't overdo, did you?" asked Phil glancing over and seeing that Joe had shut his eyes.  
  
"No," Joe answered as the final strands of the song ended. "Why are you being so overprotective?" he asked.  
  
"Because Frank made me promise to take care of you like he would," answered Phil.  
  
Joe laughed and looked at Phil with twinkling blue eye. "You'll never be able to do it," he said. "Frank's had way too much practice."  
  
"Maybe," agreed Phil. "But you got hurt on my watch yesterday. It won't happen again."  
  
"Shh!" Joe ordered, his eyes narrowing on the radio as he reached out and turned it up.  
  
"Braun Enterprises scored another win last week when Marvin Dellman lost his case against the corporation. Dellman claimed Braun Enterprises fired him because of his cancer diagnosis. The attorney for Braun proved that the diagnosis was not issued until almost two weeks after Dellman had been let go. This is the fourth lawsuit Braun Enterprises has been involved in concerning unfair employment practices.  
  
"George Braun is quoted as saying, 'We have the best medical insurance available and our employees reap the benefits of low out of pocket expenses and free medication. It is sad that Mr. Dellman is ill but his performance was below standard and he had to be terminated. Had he been diagnosed before termination then Braun Enterprises would gladly have covered the majority of his expenses. This was not the case and Mr. Dellman has learned it is not acceptable to take advantage of a corporation merely because it is a business.'  
  
"Stay tuned to this station for a recap of other events from the past week after this public service announcement."  
  
Joe flipped off the radio and turned to Phil. "I think we may have a new angle to check out," Joe announced, excitement reflecting in his eyes.  
  
"I don't get it," Phil said.  
  
"What if it isn't someone at Braun Enterprises or anyone involved in the tournament?" suggested Joe. "What if it is someone who wants Braun Enterprises to have a lot of bad publicity?" 


	15. Chapter 15

"But how would they know about the tournament?" Phil asked.  
  
Joe thought for a minute, working his bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. "Whoever it is would have to at least have help on the inside," he admitted. "So we need to check out the relatives of people involved who may have something against Braun Enterprises."  
  
"Only one problem with your theory," Phil pointed out. "Braun Enterprises isn't getting any negative publicity. None of the accidents have been linked to the tournament."  
  
"That could be because the tournament was just decided on," Joe said. "Advertising for it should start no later than tomorrow."  
  
When they reached the Hardy driveway Biff tooted his horn and kept driving. Tony's car followed Biff's van down the street and out of sight.  
  
Fenton Hardy met the boys in the foyer. "Phil, your mother called," Fenton said. "Your uncle was in a car accident and is at the Southport Hospital. I told her I would send you home to go with her and your dad as soon as you got in."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Hardy," Phil said, looking worried.  
  
""Don't worry," Fenton said to Phil. "Your mom said he wasn't in serious condition. A broken leg and arm and some bruises."  
  
"That's good," Phil said, with a sideways glance at Joe. "Maybe I should call. They won't mind if I stay here while they go."  
  
"No need," Fenton said, smiling at the boy whose loyalty was obviously torn at this point. "I am going to be here the rest of the evening."  
  
Joe thanked Phil and passed on his wishes for his uncle a speedy recovery. After Phil left, Joe sat down on the sofa next to his father and told him about his theory. "You could be right," agreed Fenton. "I had Crumpler look over the contract and he said that the schools have an advantage over Braun Enterprises if they don't cancel the tournament."  
  
"What kind of an advantage?"  
  
"If Braun backs out then they have to donate three million dollars worth of computer supplies to the schools," Fenton informed Joe.  
  
"But they couldn't afford to do that," objected Joe in surprise. "Could they?"  
  
"Not if they get a lot of negative feedback," Fenton said. "The accidents will make the headlines as soon as the tournament begins being advertised. And if one of the contestants actually gets killed..."  
  
"Then the parents would demand the schools boycott the company," Joe guessed.  
  
"And any businesses that receive their supplies from Braun as well," Fenton added. "It could ruin the company entirely."  
  
"What about the wording in the contract?" Joe asked, remembering what Frank had said about their father wanting to get it checked out.  
  
"That was where it was mentioned that Braun would have to give the schools the merchandise," Fenton said.  
  
"Oh. Has Frank called yet?" Joe asked.  
  
"No," replied Fenton. "But don't worry. He did say he might not be home until eleven."  
  
"Yeah," Joe acknowledged with a sigh. "I don't like him doing this alone," he said. "Anything could happen to him."  
  
"Relax," Fenton instructed his youngest son. "Chet goes in at eleven. If Frank hasn't shown up we will call Chet's cell and have him see what the hold up is with your brother."  
  
Joe still looked depressed so Fenton tried again. "Why don't you run upstairs and shower and change?" he suggested. "Then take a nap before dinner. That will give me time to start checking out your theory."  
  
"I'm not tired," objected Joe.  
  
"You just got out of the hospital yesterday," Fenton told him with a stern look. "I don't want you overdoing anything."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Joe grumbled rising from the couch and leaving.  
  
Fenton watched Joe head upstairs then went into the kitchen to turn the alarm on. He kissed Laura's cheek and told her he sent Joe to his room to rest until dinner was ready. "I'll be in my office if you need me," he added. He left Laura and went upstairs where he heard the shower in the boys' bathroom running as he passed by.  
  
Flynn's stomach rumbled and Matthews glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize how late it was getting," he said, looking over at Frank. "You can call it a day," he said. "But meet me in my office when you get here tomorrow afternoon," he ordered.  
  
"Yes, Sir," agreed Frank. Frank left the room and returned to Matthews's office for his briefcase before heading out. He looked at his watch as he neared Curtis' office: eight-thirty.  
  
"Hello," Frank said, coming to a stop in front of Curtis' open door.  
  
"Who are you?" Curtis demanded, looking at Frank curiously from beneath his cowboy hat.  
  
"Frank McGuire," Frank introduced himself. "I just started working here yesterday." Curtis nodded but said nothing. "I'm basically an intern here," Frank said, trying to get the man to talk to him. "And I want to learn everything I can. What do you do here?"  
  
Curtis looked at Frank with a frown. "I'm in charge of keeping this place clean," he said. "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."  
  
Dismissed, Frank continued outside. He climbed in the car and drove to the gas station down the street. There, he removed his cell phone and called home.  
  
"Dad, I need you to run some background checks for me," Frank said and listed the men he had talked to earlier.  
  
"Way ahead of you," Fenton said. He told Frank about Joe's theory.  
  
"Not bad," Frank said, admiration for his younger brother evident in his voice. "Found anything yet?"  
  
"No," Fenton admitted. "But I have looked up the principals and the superintendent so far. I am going to start on the employees, beginning with the names you just gave me, next."  
  
"Great. I'll be home in about an hour," Frank said. "Save me some dinner?"  
  
"We'll wait on you," promised Frank. "I'll run down and let your mother know. Be careful," he added before disconnecting.  
  
Fenton left his office and headed down the hallway toward the stairs, surprised to hear the shower in the boys' bathroom still going. Worried, Fenton opened the door to Joe's room and went inside.  
  
His worry turned to fear when he tried to open the bathroom door but found it locked. "Joe!" he shouted, banging his fist on the door. No answer; just the continual hiss of the shower mingled with what sounded like water hitting a tiled floor.  
  
Fenton stepped back and, eyeing the door like an enemy, gave it a hard kick. The door banged open, splintering the frame. "NO!" Fenton screamed in horror seeing Frank's hairdryer, plugged into the wall and turned on, tumble off the toilet toward the tub. 


	16. Chapter 16

Fenton dove for the cord, catching it and yanking it from the wall before the dryer hit the water. The jerk to the wire caused the appliance to bounce off the edge of the tub before falling in with a splash milder than the one Fenton made when he hit the water filled floor.  
  
Fenton got to his knees and looked at the tub where Joe sat fully clothed with his hands tied behind his back. His ankles were bound and his feet propped on the edge of the tub. Fenton gave Joe a reassuring smile as he got to his feet. Dripping wet, he reached behind Joe's head and shut off the water and pulled the gag from his son's mouth.  
  
"Check on mom," Joe rasped instead of thanking his father.  
  
Fenton's eyes once again went wide. He spun around and took off at a run, splashing Joe as he hurried out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Through the deserted living room he ran and straight into the kitchen where he found Laura lying unconscious on the floor by the open kitchen door.  
  
"Laura," Fenton breathed, rushing to her and falling to his knees. "Babe," he said, touching the carotid artery at her neck. It wasn't a strong pulse but it was there. "Thank you, God," he whispered leaning down and quickly kissing her forehead before getting to his feet and grabbing the phone.  
  
Fenton pushed in the numbers nine-one-one and gave the operator the information she needed. Hanging up, he knelt by Laura and stayed there until the ambulance arrived. Fenton stood and backed up as two paramedics entered the kitchen and began working on Laura.  
  
"Fenton?" queried Chief Collig, arriving at the backdoor of the Hardy household.  
  
Fenton looked at Ezra. "Joe!" he gasped, unable to believe he had forgotten about his son for even a second. "He's still upstairs in the tub. Take care of him," he begged his friend as Laura was lifted and placed on the stretcher. "He can tell you what happened. Tell him about Laura but tell him not to come to the hospital until Frank gets here. It shouldn't be long," he added. "Don't leave him alone?" he pleaded, grasping Ezra's arm tightly.  
  
"I won't," Collig promised. "Do you need a lift to the hospital?" he asked, not believing Fenton was in any shape to drive.  
  
Fenton shook his head. "I'm riding with her," he stated, glaring at the young male paramedic who opened his mouth to protest only to close it when Fenton glared at him defiantly.  
  
As Fenton left, Collig and Sergeant Lacey of Forensics headed upstairs while two more members of the Forensics team remained in the kitchen to do their thing. Collig took in the scene in the bathroom and shuddered, realizing how close Joe must have come, yet again, to being killed within a seventy-two hour time span.  
  
Trying to disturb the scene as little as possible, Collig began releasing Joe. "How's mom?" asked Joe, his face both white from fear and from having sat in the cold water for so long.  
  
"She's unconscious," Collig informed him. "She's on her way to Bayport General. Your dad went with her."  
  
"Hur..hurry up," demanded Joe as Collig worked on the ropes that bound him.  
  
"You aren't going anywhere," Collig told him. "Your dad left explicit instructions. You are to stay here and wait for Frank and then you can both go to the hospital."  
  
"B...bb...but..." Joe started to object but broke off as he began shivering uncontrollably.  
  
"Blast it!" snarled Collig. "Lacey, get over here," he ordered the man who had started gathering evidence.  
  
Together the men lifted Joe out of the water and carried him into the bedroom. Collig used the radio on his shoulder to request another ambulance as he and Lacey finished untying Joe and then began disrobing Joe who was shivering so badly he could no longer form coherent words.  
  
Lacey pulled the cover from the bed and wrapped it around the boy as Collig pulled the soaking socks from Joe's feet. Joe still had not quit shivering when the paramedics arrived.  
  
"I'm riding with him," Collig announced. "Lacey, you're in charge. When Frank gets here, send him to Bayport General."  
  
Fenton was sitting in the emergency waiting room staring at the wall when Collig came in. Fenton leapt to his feet as soon as he saw the chief and ran to meet him.  
  
Collig put a comforting hand on Fenton's shoulder. "Joe has hypothermia," he informed the already distraught man.  
  
"How bad?" croaked Fenton. I never should have left him in that cold water! he thought. I had too, he reminded himself. Laura!  
  
Collig shook his head. "He was coherent when we got upstairs but then he started stuttering and shivering. He lost consciousness in the ambulance." 


	17. Chapter 17

"What's going on here?" asked Frank, his brown eyes reflecting the concern and curiosity he felt.  
  
"Someone attacked Joe again," Sergeant Lacey answered.  
  
"Where is he?" Frank snapped anxiously. "Is he okay?"  
  
"He's been taken to Bayport General," Lacey answered. "Your mother was taken there as well."  
  
"What?" demanded Frank, his face going white.  
  
"Your mother was unconscious," Lacey explained. "She was hit on the back of the head. Your father accompanied her to the hospital while the chief and I went upstairs to free Joe. He had been tied up and put in the tub with cold running water." Frank looked a bit confused. "We found a hair dryer in the tub. We believe the intent was to electrocute him but something went wrong."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We don't know," answered Lacey. "Before we could ask Joe any questions he began shivering and stuttering. The chief radioed for another ambulance and went with him to the hospital."  
  
"Has he called?" asked Frank.  
  
Sergeant Lacey shook his head. "They have only been gone about twenty minutes," he said. "You should go on over," Lacey continued. "We'll finish up here and make sure everything is locked up before we leave."  
  
"Thanks," said Frank. He retreated from the house and jumped back into the car. Less than fifteen minutes later he pulled into the parking lot at the hospital and hurried inside.  
  
"Dad!" Frank called out when he entered the emergency waiting room.  
  
Fenton looked away from Collig and over at Frank. The two men stood and met Frank halfway across the room. "How are they?" asked Frank.  
  
"We haven't heard," Fenton replied with a heavy sigh. "And they won't let me go back."  
  
"What happened?" asked Frank.  
  
Fenton ran a hand through his thinning mane of brown hair and let it come to rest against the back of his neck. "I don't know," he admitted. "After I sent Joe to his room to shower and rest I turned on the alarm and went upstairs to my office. I heard the shower in your bathroom running and assumed Joe was cleaning up after his workout." He paused wishing he had gone in to make sure then instead of waiting.  
  
"The intruder must have already been in the house," he continued. "I went to my office and started doing backgrounds on the people involved from the school's side. You called and I went to talk to Laura but heard the water still going so I went in to check and..." he stopped as the horror of the moment replayed in his mind.  
  
"And?" prompted Frank.  
  
Fenton told him about the water and the dryer. "Joe insisted I check on Laura before I untied him. When I got to the kitchen, Laura was lying on the floor by the door. I stayed with her until the paramedics and Ezra arrived and then I sent Ezra upstairs to take care of your brother."  
  
Fenton's face took on a pinched look. "I never thought about the water being so cold. The fact that Joe could get hypothermia at this time of year, at home, never even occurred to me."  
  
"It's okay," Frank said, putting an arm around his father's shoulders. "You couldn't leave mom and Joe was conscious when you left him. Joe will be okay. Mom too," he added, praying he was right.  
  
The three of them sat down but got right back up as the door opened and a doctor stepped out. "Mr. Hardy?" he inquired.  
  
"Yes?" Fenton asked nervously.  
  
"Your wife has regained consciousness," the young doctor informed him. Fenton let out a sigh of relief. "She has a severe concussion and I want to keep her here for at least twenty-four hours for observation," the doctor continued. "I would also like to recommend a CAT scan."  
  
"Whatever you think is necessary," Fenton agreed at once.  
  
"She was asking about someone named Joe," the doctor said.  
  
"Our son," Fenton informed him. "He was brought in a few minutes after Laura."  
  
"I see," said the doctor frowning. "She shouldn't be upset," he said. "Have you heard any news on him yet?"  
  
"No," answered Fenton.  
  
"You can see your wife now but if you will wait a couple of minutes before you do I will find out something about your son," he offered.  
  
"Thank you," Fenton replied gratefully.  
  
"What are you going to tell her if Joe isn't doing well?" Frank asked his father.  
  
"I don't know," Fenton replied sadly. "But he is," he added hopefully. "Joe was brought in quickly. He has to be all right."  
  
"Mr. Hardy?" a nurse approached the three men.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If you will come with me?" she asked, turning around.  
  
"We were waiting for news of my son," Fenton said.  
  
"I know," she said, turning around and smiling at him. "He has regained consciousness and has been placed in a room with his mother."  
  
"Thank God," Fenton and Frank breathed as one. 


	18. Chapter 18

"What kept you?" Joe asked Frank and his dad as they entered the room.  
  
Frank's answer was a smile as he ruffled Joe's still slightly damp hair. "How are you two?" he asked, looking from Joe to his mother.  
  
"I have a humdinger of a headache, but I'll live," Laura replied, smiling because she could see all of her family was safe.  
  
"And I just want to go home," grumbled Joe.  
  
"Tough," Laura said, glaring at him. "The doctor said you are staying overnight and you will."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Joe mumbled.  
  
"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Chief Collig.  
  
"Yes," Joe answered. "The guy in the cowboy hat was waiting for me in my bedroom."  
  
"He couldn't have been," objected Frank. "He was at the plant."  
  
"Sounds like there may be two men involved who wear cowboy hats," Laura observed.  
  
"Or someone trying to frame Curtis," Fenton added thoughtfully.  
  
"But I found those pictures in his drawer," objected Frank.  
  
"Another attempt to implicate him," suggested Joe.  
  
"The only way that would work would be if they knew I, or someone, was on the inside investigating," pointed out Frank.  
  
"They could be on the lookout for anyone new," reasoned Joe. "Didn't Chet get the job as a janitor?" Frank nodded. "And Curtis is in charge of him," Joe continued. "Maybe they planted the pictures in Curtis' office because they think Chet may be undercover."  
  
"That would explain whey Matthews has been spending so much time with me," said Frank. "He even gave me a briefcase."  
  
"Like Principal Dylan's?" asked Joe, his eyes narrowing on his brother. Frank nodded. "Don't you think it is odd how they always seem to know what's going on?" he asked.  
  
"You will have to explain that one," Fenton declared.  
  
"How did they know who the contestants were?" Joe asked. "Principal Dylan told us about the tournament and asked us to be the school champions the day after he found out and even then he said we could refuse if we wanted too."  
  
"Go on," Collig ordered, not following yet.  
  
"The wreck that hurt the two kids from Cornwell happened Friday morning," Joe reminded him. "How did they know who to go after?"  
  
"That's a very good question," Fenton applauded his son's train of thought.  
  
"Too, no one has tried to attack Emily or Nick since Principal Dylan found out they quit and I would be the only one to participate," Joe continued. "And why were they trying so hard to get me even before Emily and Nick quit?"  
  
"Because someone overheard the principal call you a natural?" asked Frank, although he was beginning to see what Joe was getting at. "But you think they know what's going on because they are listening." Joe nodded. "Then we need to check the briefcase to see if it's been bugged," Frank decided. "If it is, then it's a safe bet all of the others that Braun handed out are as well."  
  
"I think I should finish checking the employees," Fenton said.  
  
"I don't think it's safe to leave mom and Joe alone," Frank stated with a frown.  
  
"Agreed," seconded Collig. "I'll arrange a guard."  
  
"Fenton, there's been another accident," Collig said, calling the Hardy home early the next morning.  
  
"Laura? Joe?" gasped Fenton, his heart thudding as he looked across the room at Frank.  
  
"No, no," Collig quickly calmed him. "Todd Smeth from Tomlin High School," He said. "He was out jogging earlier this morning and someone ran him down. He's in critical condition."  
  
"Thanks for letting us know," Fenton said before bidding him goodbye.  
  
After hanging up, Fenton related the news to Frank. "More evidence for Joe's theory," said Frank. "Otherwise why not try to finish off Joe or the other two constantans from Mercury?"  
  
"Joe's theory is holding up," agreed Fenton. "Let's go to the hospital and I will tell you what I learned last night. I think it's only fair Joe gets to hear it at the same time."  
  
Frank's eyes sparkled as he smiled. "Joe's been bummed because he hasn't gotten to help with the investigating but it looks like he's going to be the one to solve the mystery anyway."  
  
"Breakfast," the volunteer said as she brought in two trays of food.  
  
"Great!" Joe said. "I'm famished." He never did get to eat dinner the previous evening.  
  
"Something light for you, Mrs. Hardy," the middle-aged woman said, setting the tray on the rolling table and pushing it up to her.  
  
"Thank you," Laura said, lifting the lid and grimacing. It didn't look very appetizing but, like Joe, she hadn't eaten the night before either.  
  
"And something a bit more substantial for you since you get to go home this morning," the volunteer said, setting Joe's tray down on his roll away.  
  
Joe lifted the lid and looked at his breakfast eagerly. "Thanks," he said, not caring that it looked as appetizing as his mother's did. The woman left as the two began eating.  
  
Fenton and Frank arrived as the two were finishing. "Hi, Babe," Fenton said, leaning down and kissing the top of Laura's head. "Joe," he added, looking over at his youngest son and smiling. "You both look better this morning."  
  
"We are," Laura acknowledged, smiling up at him.  
  
"One of the kids from Tomlin was run-down this morning," Frank informed them, sitting down in a chair by Joe's bed after kissing his mother's cheek. "He's in critical condition."  
  
"And I finished looking into the backgrounds of the people at Braun Enterprises who have a connection to the tournament," Fenton picked up. "Matthew's sister is married to Michael Wilson."  
  
"The guy the stolen truck belonged to," commented Frank, surprise evident in his voice.  
  
"And Wilson was let go a few days before being diagnosed with leukemia."  
  
"So maybe Wilson is behind this?" asked Joe. "He got his brother-in-law to help?"  
  
"I believe so," concurred Fenton. "He wants revenge against the company for firing him and canceling his insurance."  
  
"But the company didn't know," Joe said. "You just said he was diagnosed after he was fired."  
  
"True," Fenton agreed with the latter part of Joe's comment. "But I did some more checking. Wilson, Reeds, Hill, Layfil, and several other people, all diagnosed with some form of cancer, were seen by doctors assigned to them by the company. Different doctors but still with a loyalty to Braun Enterprises."  
  
"You think Braun knows about the illnesses before the patient?" asked Frank. "And they are being fired before the diagnosis is passed on?"  
  
"I do," acknowledged Fenton. "I also believe that there is something at Braun that is causing the cancer."  
  
"That's horrible," declared Laura.  
  
"There's more," Fenton said. "Braun Enterprises underwrites the policies. They wouldn't have to just pay the insurance; they would have to pay all expenses." 


	19. Chapter 19

"What about the briefcase?" Joe asked turning to look at Frank.  
  
Frank shook his head. "I practically tore it apart," he said. "Nothing."  
  
"It was still a good idea," Fenton said, smiling at his youngest son.  
  
"Good morning," said Dr. Bates entering the room. "You know, I am getting real tired of seeing your name on my list," he admonished Joe. "Let's see if we can't get you out of here and keep you out for awhile, hmm?"  
  
Joe made a face as the others laughed. Dr. Bates pulled the curtain, blocking Laura's view form Joe as he gave Joe a check-up. When he had finished, he stepped to the other side to check on Laura.  
  
"Well?" asked Fenton when Dr. Bates reopened the curtain.  
  
"Joe can go home anytime," Dr. Bates said. "Laura's eyes have returned to normal and the swelling has gone down," he continued. "I know a CAT scan was suggested by the doctor on duty last night but I really don't think one is necessary."  
  
"So I can go home too?" asked Laura, perking up.  
  
"If you continue as you are; later this evening," Dr. Bates said.  
  
Joe snickered but didn't say anything. He was already pulling on his pants. Dr. Bates left to visit his other patients and Joe finished getting dressed. "The coach is going to kill me," he said. "I was supposed to be at practice at seven this morning."  
  
"I'll explain it to him," Frank said. "We need to pay Mr. Wilson a visit."  
  
"I'll do that," volunteered Joe.  
  
"Not a good idea," disagreed Frank.  
  
"You have to go to work after school," Joe reminded him. "I'll ask Biff to go with me after practice," he continued. "That way I won't have to go alone."  
  
"I agree with Frank," put in Fenton with a frown. Joe scowled. "Son, I know you want to help with this investigation and you have..."  
  
"Yeah, right," grumbled Joe.  
  
"Hey, you came up with the revenge theory," Frank reminded him.  
  
"But I'm the only one who has seen the guy," Joe objected. "If I can't do any actual investigating then how am I going to get you to recognize him?"  
  
"I printed up pictures with the profiles last night," Fenton said. "You can go through them this afternoon."  
  
"Peachy," Joe snorted.  
  
"You two had better get to school," Fenton said. "See if Chet found out anything and thank him for helping out."  
  
"We will," Frank promised. "But I'm going to tell him he can quit now. If they think Chet is investigating then I really don't want him there alone at night. Besides, working at night on the weekend is one thing but doing it when he has to go to school is just too much."  
  
"Joe, report to the office," Mrs. Bertrand, Joe's study hall teacher, told him when he entered the classroom.  
  
Joe hurried to the office and found Frank already there waiting to see the principal. The door to his inner sanctum opened as the bell rang announcing the beginning of third period. "Come inside," he invited the boys.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Frank seeing the worried look on the principal's face. "Has someone else been hurt?"  
  
"Yes," snapped Dylan. "Joe," he said. "Repeatedly. Coach Anderson just informed me of the reason Joe missed practice and homeroom today. I know you are detectives and you are very adept at what you do but this is happening because of a school-sponsored event and I can not allow it to continue."  
  
"You have to give us a couple of more days," begged Joe. "We have a major breakthrough."  
  
"What?" Dylan demanded.  
  
Frank told Principal Dylan about Joe's theory and about how it seemed to be panning out. "We have a great lead that I am going to follow up on this afternoon," Frank concluded.  
  
"And Joe?" demanded Dylan. "I don't think your brother can take many more of these attacks."  
  
"He is staying in Bayport," Frank said. "The guys will keep an eye on him."  
  
"Please?" Joe pleaded again. "Dad is working on this as well."  
  
"He is?" queried Dylan in surprise.  
  
"Once one of us gets hurt, Dad tends to take it personal," Frank informed him.  
  
"And your father is going to let you two keep on investigating?" Dylan inquired looking at the boys thoughtfully.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Frank acknowledged as Joe nodded his head.  
  
"Very well," Dylan said with a sigh. "You may continue. But if after two more days you have not found the party or parties responsible then Bayport High will pull out of the competition."  
  
"That was close," Joe murmured once they were out of the office.  
  
"You're telling me," Frank concurred. "But I do agree with him."  
  
"About what?" asked Joe curiously.  
  
"You can't take many more attacks," Frank replied. "Be extra careful today, huh?"  
  
"I will," Joe promised. "But you're the one walking into the line of fire. I wish you weren't going to see Wilson."  
  
"I'll watch my step," Frank promised. "I better run," he said. "I won't get to have lunch with you today. I need to get my homework done before school is over."  
  
"Okay," Joe said. He was kind of glad Frank wasn't going to be at lunch because he wasn't going to be there either. His stomach was hurting and although he knew he was supposed to eat the lunch his dad had fixed and brought to the hospital for him to bring, he just couldn't do it. 


	20. Chapter 20

Frank arrived at Braun Enterprises a little after five that afternoon. Curtis wasn't around so Frank couldn't talk to him and he doubted searching his office would provide any legitimate leads so he left the area and went to Matthew's office.  
  
Frank found a note tacked to the door when he arrived. Frank, I had to go to a meeting. Go on in and pick up where we left off yesterday. I shouldn't be too long.  
  
Frank pulled the note from the door and went inside. Closing the door he set his things down, opened the document he was working on yesterday and then set about searching the office. Aware Matthews could return at any minute, Frank went through the desk trying to be quick but also trying not to leave anything out of place. After he finished with the desk he moved to the file cabinets. He was halfway through with no success when he heard voices from behind the door. He replaced the folder he held in his hand, shut the drawer and raced to his seat. When Matthews and one of the men from the previous day entered the office Frank was busy at the keyboard.  
"You okay?" asked Phil as Joe exited the locker room and made his way to the mats.  
  
"Yeah," Joe fibbed. He was hot and his throat was dry even though he had consumed a massive amount of water from the water cooler before exiting the locker room.  
  
Phil frowned as Joe moved away. He could tell something was wrong with Joe but until he admitted it there wasn't anything he could do.  
  
"What's wrong with Joe?" asked Biff coming over to join Phil fifteen minutes into practice. Biff had noticed how slow Joe seemed to be moving and the errors he seemed to keep making. Even the coach was getting worried.  
  
"I don't know," Phil admitted. "But he doesn't look so good."  
  
Joe fell to the floor on his knees. "Hardy!" Anderson bellowed. "That was a lousy performance. What's wrong with you today?"  
  
Joe shrugged and wiped his brow. He was sweating even though he hadn't really done enough to work one up. "My throat is scratchy and I'm hot," Joe answered.  
  
"Great," grumbled Anderson. "On top of everything else, you're getting sick. Go home and get some rest," he ordered, aware it was not the boy's fault.  
  
Phil and Biff followed Joe home. "I've got to run," Biff apologized after escorting Joe inside and making sure it was deserted.  
  
"I understand," Joe said. "Thanks for helping out."  
  
"Anytime, Pal," Biff returned. "Get some rest."  
  
"I will," Joe promised.  
  
Phil came into the living room after Biff left holding a note he had found tacked to the bulletin board. "It's from your dad," Phil informed Joe. "He's at the hospital with your mom but should be bringing her home soon."  
  
"That's good," Joe said. "Why don't you head on home?" he suggested. "I'm going to take a nap."  
  
"I'll hang around until your folks get here," Phil said, not wanting to leave Joe unprotected.  
  
"I'll turn on the alarm as soon as you leave," promised Joe.  
  
"Your dad did that last time," Phil reminded him.  
  
"But we searched the house this time," Joe pointed out. "No one is here but us."  
  
"Okay," Phil gave in grudgingly. "But call me if you need anything or if you want to go anywhere."  
  
"I will," Joe said. "I promise," he added when he could see Phil was still wavering. "Your mom probably needs you at home," he continued. "Didn't you say in history that she was going to spend some time with your uncle at the hospital?"  
  
"I'm going," Phil said. He couldn't deny his mom did want him at home to do a few things. "But call me."  
  
"I will," Joe promised again. "I'll even call you when Frank gets home if that will make you feel better."  
  
"It will," Phil agreed.  
  
"It's a deal then," Joe said, smiling. He saw Phil out and turned on the alarm and then headed upstairs for a nap. Not only was he hot and his throat sore but now his stomach was starting to cramp and he was feeling a bit nauseous.  
  
Frank left Braun Enterprises at a little after seven. Matthews had called in saying he wouldn't be able to get back after all and for Frank to just lock up and call it a day. He stopped by the burger place in town for something to eat and then drove to Wilson's address.  
  
He came to a stop in front of a modest two-story house and got out of the car. The front door opened as he approached and a man with a square jaw line wearing a pair of faded jeans and an old button up shirt with the first two buttons hanging open stepped out onto the porch.  
  
"Can I help you, young man?" asked the man who appeared to be in his late forties.  
  
"I was looking for Michael Wilson," Frank said.  
  
"Why?" the man demanded suspiciously.  
  
"It's about his truck," Frank replied. "It was found by the Bayport Police Department last Friday."  
  
"I know it was found," Wilson said. "They called and told me but also said it was involved in a crime so I couldn't have it back just yet."  
  
"So you are Mr. Wilson," Frank stated.  
  
"Who are you and what do you really want?" Wilson demanded.  
  
"My name is Frank Hardy and I want to find out who stole your truck," Frank answered. "It was used to attack some high school students and nearly ran me down on Friday."  
  
"Are you with the police?" Wilson asked.  
  
"No, Sir," Frank replied. "My brother is one of the contestants in the gymnastics tournament that the person who stole your truck seems to be targeting."  
  
"I see," Wilson said. "I don't know how I can help you though," he continued. "I didn't see who took my truck."  
  
"You used to work at Braun Enterprises, did you not?" asked Frank.  
  
"Yes," Wilson answered. "But I was let go awhile back."  
  
"Do you mind my asking why?" Frank asked.  
  
Wilson scowled. "Because they're a no good, stingy, stinking, thieving lot of bastards," he spat.  
  
"Excuse me?" Frank asked, acting surprised.  
  
"Let's just say I'm better off not working there anymore," Wilson stated. "And no one should work there. They'll get done dirty just like I was."  
  
"How did they do you dirty?" asked Frank.  
  
"They..." Wilson began then stopped. "What's this got to do with my truck?" he demanded.  
  
"It's possible that someone you worked with stole your truck," Frank said.  
  
"Why would you think that?" Wilson asked, watching Frank's face curiously.  
  
"Since the truck was used in a crime that is, in a way, associated with Braun Enterprises, then it stands to reason that someone from there is involved," Frank explained.  
  
"I guess," Wilson answered hesitantly. "But the people I worked with were all right. It was them ones that were in charge that were doing wrong."  
  
"Can you tell me anything about them?" asked Frank.  
  
"No," Wilson answered, obviously deciding he had said enough. "I rarely saw them. You'll have to ask someone else about them. Now if that's all, my wife and I were having dinner."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Frank apologized for his intrusion. "Thank you for your help," he added as he left. He returned to the car and climbed in. He drove out of sight and parked the car and then doubled back to the house on foot. Wilson definitely had a grudge against Braun Enterprises and Frank was going to do a bit of further investigating before calling it quits.  
  
Frank took up position outside of the partially open dining room window. Wilson hadn't lied about being in the middle of dinner. But he had lied about who was present for said meal. Inside sat Wilson and, presumably, his wife, but next to her was Matthews!  
  
"That pesky Hardy kid," Matthews was saying. "I knew he was going to be trouble."  
  
"Well, it was a good thing you gave him a briefcase that wasn't bugged," said Mrs. Wilson. "That way if they suspect that was how we knew what was going on and looked at it they would tear it up and not bother checking the ones you gave the principals and the superintendent," she said to Matthews.  
  
"Yes," agreed Wilson. "But bugging the briefcases was genius. We knew exactly who to go after."  
  
"Not that it has done any good," Matthews said in disgust. "All these attacks and Braun still hasn't gotten any blame."  
  
"Only because no one has died yet," Mrs. Wilson said with a faint smile on her face.  
  
"Not for lack of trying," Matthews said.  
  
Wilson looked worried. "I just wish we didn't have to do this," he said.  
  
"We tried just hurting the kids but it hasn't worked," Mrs. Wilson told her husband, placing a hand on his arm. "And unless something happens, Braun Enterprises will go on doing what they have been doing. If one teenager has to die to stop it then that is what will have to happen."  
  
"But these kids are innocent," Wilson argued. "They haven't done anything."  
  
"One of them has," Mrs. Wilson pointed out. "His brother and father are trying to stop us. They are trying to help Braun Enterprises continued hurting people like you."  
  
"My sister is right," Matthews agreed. "Joe Hardy isn't an innocent and his death will bring about the recognition we have been trying so hard to get."  
  
"How much longer does he have?" Wilson asked.  
  
"He should be dead by tonight if not already," Mrs. Wilson answered. "The poison I used said it took between six and twelve hours to kill if ingested."  
  
Frank backed away from the window in horror. He turned and fell over a tray of flowers that had been set out to be transplanted. Before he could get to his feet he was looking down the barrel Wilson's shot gun. 


	21. Chapter 21

"It is nice to be home," Laura said when she and Fenton arrived home. "This experience has really made me appreciate Joe," she continued. "Poor kid. To think how much time he has spent in hospitals. It's no wonder he hates the place now."  
  
Fenton laughed. "I know," he agreed. "He couldn't wait to get out of there this morning."  
  
"Where is he?" Laura asked in concern when she didn't see him about. "Isn't he supposed to be home?"  
  
"Maybe he's doing his homework," Fenton said, resetting the alarm he had disarmed when they had gotten in. "I'll run upstairs and check on him."  
  
Fenton went upstairs to Joe's room and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, he tried the knob, breathing a sigh of relief when it twisted open. He had been afraid that something might have happened in their absence.  
  
Fenton smiled when he saw Joe sleeping on his bed, fully clothed. "Son," Fenton said, going over to Joe and touching him gently on the back. "Wake up," he said. "I brought your mother home."  
  
Joe never moved. "Joe," Fenton said a bit louder, his voice growing concerned. He turned Joe over, noticing how hot he was to the touch. "Joe!" he shouted at his youngest son, growing terrified when Joe's eyes remained shut. Fenton felt for Joe's pulse. "Oh, God," Fenton said, his breathing heavy with emotion. He lifted his son into his arms and moved as quickly as he could down the stairs.  
  
"Get the door!" he shouted at Laura who had come running from the living room to see what was causing the heavy footsteps.  
  
"Joe!" Laura screamed even as she raced for the front door. She opened it to the peal of the alarm that she had not shut off.  
  
"Get in the car," ordered Fenton, ignoring the alarm and continuing to the back of the car. He set Joe inside and Laura climbed in with him as Fenton got behind the wheel. He tore out of the driveway and sped toward the hospital.  
  
Fenton pulled to a screeching halt in front of the hospital's emergency room followed immediately by squad cars with sirens blasting and lights flashing. Fenton leapt from the front seat and yanked open the rear door. Two orderlies, a nurse, and a doctor came running out with a gurney as he pulled Joe from the backseat.  
  
Laura got out with tears streaming down her face. "He's not breathing!" she screamed as they rushed Joe inside. But that had already been discovered because an oxygen mask was being placed over his face.  
  
"What happened?" asked Officer O'Brady rushing up to the Hardys.  
  
Fenton looked at the officer blankly. "Sir?" O'Brady pushed gently as the other officer escorted Mrs. Hardy inside.  
  
"We left the alarm on," Fenton said finally. "Joe was unconscious," he said. "His pulse was so weak I didn't think he would last until an ambulance could get there."  
  
"Do you know what is wrong with him?" asked a nurse coming over to the Hardys and the officers as they entered the emergency room.  
  
Fenton shook his head. "He was lying on his bed when we got home."  
  
"Do you know anyone who might know?" she asked.  
  
Fenton nodded. "I'll call Phil," he said. "He was supposed to have been with Joe all afternoon."  
  
While Fenton went off to ring Phil, O'Brady radioed in about the Hardys. A squad car had already been dispatched to the Hardy residence to see about the alarm and had found the house unoccupied with no sign of attempted entry.  
  
"Phil doesn't know what is wrong with Joe," Fenton informed the nurse when he hung up with Phil. "He did say that Joe hadn't been feeling well today and was sent home from practice early. Phil also said he skipped lunch," Fenton added. "Joe ingested some poisonous mushrooms earlier this week and was on a special diet. Could he have gotten this way because he didn't eat like he was supposed to today?"  
  
"No," the nurse replied. She had been looking at Joe's file while Fenton had been on the phone. "The diet was to flush any possible remaining poisons from his system. If there had been any poison left it would affect his liver first. Symptoms like these would be an advanced stage of poisoning." She frowned. "I'll let the doctor know anyway," she promised.  
  
It was close to an hour later when a doctor came out to talk with the worried parents. "How is he?" Laura demanded, jumping to her feet.  
  
"He is doing much better," the doctor said.  
  
"What was wrong with him?" demanded Fenton.  
  
"He was poisoned," the doctor informed them.  
  
"Again?" Fenton thundered in disbelief.  
  
"Unlike with the mushrooms, this was a slower acting poison," the doctor said. "As a matter of fact, this particular poison is only dangerous if misused. It's actually a combination of two medications."  
  
"You mean he may have gotten it here?" demanded Fenton. "When he was in here last night?"  
  
"More likely, this morning," the doctor affirmed Fenton's suspicions. "Someone gave him the poison before he left the grounds."  
  
"How do you know?" asked Laura. "Maybe it was given to him after he left?"  
  
The doctor shook his head. "When it was discovered what was doing this to him and that he was a patient here earlier today, we checked the floor he was on. A bottle of each medication is missing form the floor's pharmacy."  
  
"The woman who brought him breakfast," Laura said, her eyes flashing angrily.  
  
"Or it could have been whoever prepared the food," Fenton said. He turned to O'Brady who had remained with the Hardys to find out if indeed it was an attempted homicide. "Find out who the volunteer was and everyone else who had access to Joe's breakfast," he ordered.  
  
"Will do," the officer acknowledged. "Doctor?" O'Brady asked. "I'm going to need your help."  
  
"What are we going to do with him?" asked Mrs. Wilson joining her husband and brother outside.  
  
"We have to kill him," Matthews said. "He knows everything."  
  
"I'm not the only one," Frank said.  
  
"How?" asked Wilson, ignoring Frank.  
  
"Smother him?" suggested Mrs. Wilson.  
  
"That wouldn't be messy," agreed her husband.  
  
"But what are we going to do with the body?" asked Mrs. Wilson. "I don't want him buried here."  
  
"We won't leave him here," said Matthews. "We'll take him back to Braun Enterprises," he said smiling. "And we won't suffocate him. I have a better idea."  
  
"What?" Wilson asked curiously.  
  
"We'll take him to the factory and let him have an accident," Matthews said. "It will give Braun bad publicity and keep us from getting into trouble because no one will know we had anything to do with it."  
  
"And I know just the machine to do the trick," Wilson said. "I worked it long enough," he added bitterly.  
  
"Let's go," Matthews ordered Frank.  
  
"No," Frank refused to move.  
  
"He said move," Wilson declared preparing to fire at Frank.  
  
"Why should I?" demanded Frank. "You're going to kill me anyway," he said. "Now, if you want to let me call and let someone know about my brother, then I will go with you willingly," he tried to negotiate. "You'll have one death on Braun's plate. You don't have to kill my brother too."  
  
"It's probably too late for him anyway," Mrs. Wilson said. "I put in just enough to make it seem like he was just coming down with the flu. He probably went to bed and died in his sleep."  
  
"Almost," snarled Fenton from the side of the house.  
  
Startled, Wilson spun around to face the speaker. Frank lost no time. He jumped Wilson and grabbed the gun with his left hand at the same time making a fist with his right hand and smashing it into Wilson's face.  
  
"Freeze! Police!" ordered Sergeant Ballen of the East Bridge Police Department. "You are under arrest. Place your hands behind your heads."  
  
"For what?" Matthews demanded. "This young man was trespassing. We were just going to take him to the police station," he lied.  
  
"Forget it," snarled Fenton. "You three are going up for several counts of attempted murder."  
  
"It was me," Wilson said, taking the blame. He was dying anyway, he thought. No sense in making his wife and brother-in-law suffer.  
  
"Dad, they poisoned Joe!" Frank interrupted. They were wasting valuable time!  
  
"He's okay," Fenton quickly assured his eldest son. "We found him in time. And," he added, looking at Mrs. Wilson. "We know who poisoned him and have the evidence. She left the bottles in the trash in the pharmacy. Her fingerprints were all over them."  
  
Sergeant Ballen's men moved forward and began reading the threesome their rights. "I understand you want to return tomorrow and file charges?" he asked, remembering what his chief had told him when he had been placed in charge of this bust.  
  
"That's correct," acknowledged Fenton. "We want to return to Bayport and see about my youngest son."  
  
"We'll take care of things here," Ballen stated, nodding his head in dismissal.  
  
"You don't understand!" Matthews shouted. "Braun Enterprises has been getting away with unethical, even illegal, practices."  
  
"We know," Fenton told him. "And they are going to be brought up on charges," he said. "But there is no excuse for what the three of you have done. You are very lucky that no one was killed."  
  
"Not for lack of trying," Frank snarled, glaring at the three.  
  
It was almost midnight when Joe regained consciousness. "Hey, Baby Brother," Frank said, smiling down at his little brother. "It's over."  
  
"What? Where?" Joe asked, confused when he saw his brother and parents in the small hospital room with him.  
  
"The volunteer this morning was Wilson's wife," Fenton explained. "When we found out, Ezra called the chief of police in East Bridge and arranged for me to go with them to make the arrest."  
  
"Good timing too," Frank put in. "I had just been caught spying on them."  
  
"So the tournament is still on?" asked Joe. After everything that had happened, he really didn't feel like competing anymore but he couldn't let everyone down.  
  
"No," Fenton replied shaking his head. "Matthews, Wilson and his wife were responsible for all of the attacks but Braun Enterprises is guilty of illegal labor practices. The investigation began this afternoon when I called them from the hospital to tell them what we suspected."  
  
"So the Labor Board canceled the tournament and the contract the school board has with Braun is null and void," Laura put in.  
  
"But Dr. Vaughn wants to have the tournament next year," Frank continued. "He told dad it would be better organized and there would be no sponsor like there would have been this year. They would work something into the school budget."  
  
"That's good," Joe said. "But I still don't understand how they knew everything that was going on."  
  
"The briefcases were bugged," Frank informed him.  
  
"But..."  
  
"They gave me one that wasn't because they suspected I might look for one," Frank informed him. "See, they knew from the beginning that I was a plant."  
  
"Crazy," Joe said, shaking his head. "They went to all that trouble just to get Braun into trouble. Why not just use their know-how to get info on what was really going on at Braun?" he asked.  
  
"Because Matthews was never involved in that part of the business," Fenton answered. "He didn't have access to anything involved with the medical or legal aspects of the company."  
  
"The tournament was even Matthew's idea. He went to Tomlin and met up with Principal Reynolds after school at a restaurant," Frank picked up the tale. "During the "chance" meeting, Matthews dropped enough hints to light a fire under Reynolds."  
  
"Those three are going up for a long time, aren't they?" asked Joe.  
  
"Let's hope so," Laura answered. She leaned down and kissed Joe's forehead. "Look at all the people they hurt. And you aren't even out of the woods yet," she said. "You still have to have the blood work done to make sure there are no aftereffects of the poisonous mushrooms."  
  
"No, he doesn't," Fenton said.  
  
"Why not?" demanded Frank.  
  
"They ran tests on him when they checked to make sure the toxins from the poison this morning had worn off," Fenton explained. "His system is free and clear. When he gets out of here tomorrow, he won't have to come back."  
  
"Until next time," Joe said with a sigh.  
  
"Don't say that!" admonished Laura.  
  
"Why not?" Joe asked. "There's always a next time."  
  
The End...until next time.... 


End file.
